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THE LOVE LETTERS 
OF ST. JOHN 



THE LOVE LETTERS 
OF ST. JOHN 




NEW YORK 

MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

I917 






COPYRIGHT I917 BY 
MITCHELL KENNERLEY 



OCT 23 1917 



PRINTED IN AMERICA 



©CI,A476683 



IvO t • 



FOREWORD 

The winter of 18 — found me in a little 
village in the mountains of northern Tus- 
cany. I had gone there to meditate and to 
work. In my wanderings through the hills 
I often met an old priest bound on some 
visit to distant members of his flock. He 
usually seemed deep in thought, though 
when I greeted him he would raise his eyes 
and give me a smile that was like a benedic- 
tion, full of peace and love. 

One afternoon our ways lay in the same 
direction and as we neared his cottage he 
asked me to share his evening meal. We 
talked far into the night, and that was the 
beginning of a long and intimate compan- 
ionship by his fireside. 

In all our intercourse he told me nothing of 
himself. Our talk was chiefly of the things 
of the Spirit and was of such absorbing 

6 



6 FOREWORD 

interest — so deeply had he penetrated to the 
heart of hfe — that I did not realize until too 
late that in learning to know the soul of my 
friend I had forgotten that the story of his 
outward life might also hold a message of 
human value. What force had forged the 
chain of circumstances that had hidden such 
a man in this meagre mountain village? 
Where had he acquired his learning and rich 
culture, his knowledge of the world, his in- 
sight into human nature? And what fur- 
nace heat of suffering had burned away the 
alloy of self and left this finest gold — the 
gold of an overwhelming and unwavering 
love embracing every living thing? The 
face of Life has held a deeper significance 
for me, an added glory, since the lips of that 
gentle, wise old man taught me to see. 

One morning they came hurriedly for me 
— my friend had received his last summons. 
As I entered the room where he lay it seemed 
like the tlireshold of another world. His 
face was illumined with a gladness and peace 



FOREWORD 7 

from within which seemed to fill the simple 
place with light. 

Looking into my eyes as I stood by his 
bedside he asked me to open a closet by 
the stone fireplace and bring him a pack- 
age. It seemed to have lain there many 
years. 

"This holds," he said, as I placed it beside 
him, and his hand, uncertain in its weakness, 
touched it with a yet unmistakable affec- 
tion, even reverence, "this holds some letters 
that were given me long ago — to give to the 
world. Take them — and do with them as 
you will. They teach a great lesson — the 

one we both know — so well ." There 

was a long silence, for his strength was 
failing fast. Then he said: 

"I always meant to give them to the world 
— but the time did not seem ripe. You will 
know — for the love that is in these is in you 
— you will understand — you will make it 
manifest " 

He did not speak again, but with that 



8 FOREWORD 

peace still in his face we waited together — 
till he passed beyond. . . . 

As I took up the sacred task of transcrib- 
ing the letters, it was as though my friend 
had come back to aid me, so clearly were his 
thoughts and the thought of him interwoven 
with the teachings I found there. Again 
awakened an inspiring sense of a noble 
presence — of strength, purity, a prescience 
of the infinite power of love — that love which 
John taught is the whole law for all the 
worlds, and which, if we but understood it, 
would bring us into blessedness and peace. 
For there would seem to be many paths to 
peace, and "many mansions in my Father's 
house." 

As my work went on, I marvelled to find 
in it, as it were, the roots of much that has 
been fruitful of dissension in the centuries 
since — of much that is familiar to us in cur- 
rent thought. It may be, indeed, that the 
time is ripe. . . . 



FOREWORD 9 

It may be that the vision of the truth made 
flesh that fired the soul of him whom Jesus 
loved has since become so dimmed by inven- 
tions of men, so overlaid with doctrines and 
dogmas and the silt of human prejudices, 
that these old letters must now be brought to 
light to give once more the simple message 
of "that which was from the beginning," 
"the perfect love that casteth out all fear." 

Or it may be that the letters were written 
by some unknown hand, or under the influ- 
ence of some teacher long forgotten. What 
does it matter? They voice our common 
need, the Spirit's fruit of human love. 

May these voices, long since stilled, wake 
again some soul to the joy of that peace that 
passeth understanding, et tui nomine, O 
Domine, dant gloriam, 

M. /. A. 



THE LOVE LETTERS 
OF ST. JOHN 



THE SOWIi^^G 

JOHN, my friend. How wonderful was 
our morning together — like the first new 
morning of the world! You have taught 
me a new beauty in life — taught me, who 
until that morning believed no beauty new. 
When you left me I longed for you again — 
wanted to lie down in your arms like a little 
child, and rest. And I think that is what I 
ought to have done if we all lived as we 
should — if we were of that truth you have 
told me of, that would make us free. 

You fill the great spaces of my life and I 
thank the gods for that. I thank them daily 
that they sent me to you, for you have 

brought blessing into my life. Is it possible 

11 



12 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

that even in that book of remembrance in 
your heaven it is written into how many- 
lives your hving has brought strength and 

joy? 

The things I am learning from you, my 
kind, wise friend, seem not so strange to me 
now. They come more gently, as it were. 
At first they were like a stream of water 
from some high, unseen fountain. Now 
they come sweet and warm and living like 
the flow of milk from the breast, and I draw 
it in and am strong. And I am also glad. 

When you come again there is somewhat 
I must tell you of my life before I knew you. 
Will you then love me less, my friend? 
Will I seem to you a different woman from 
the one you know now? 

May the gods bless you and yours. I 
long to know of somewhat I might do for 
those who are dear to you. I love them all 
— all your dearest, even Anna, and all your 
friends, and I would fain serve them with my 
love. Antione. 



IF I could love you less, Antione, because 
of anything you had done, then am I one 
who loved you little. Tell me all your heart 
desires to tell me. In love as well as in truth 
we are always free. 

To me Eternal Life and the love of the 
Father have been manifested in the flesh. I 
have heard, I have seen, I have handled with 
my hands, and what I have told you is what 
I know, that you may know that you have 
my love, for the love that I have for you, 
Antione, is truly of the Father. 

The pure in heart see God in every man. 
In whatsoever face they look they see 
the eyes of Christ. He said: "Whoso 
loveth much, to him is much forgiven." 
There is no fear in love. One day when he 
was teaching in the temple the scribes and 
Pharisees brought to him a woman taken in 
adultery, but they could not persuade him of 

13 



14 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

any sin in her. More than one of them told 
him of her deeds and repeated to him the law 
of Moses and the way of the fathers with 
such an one. Yet he but looked at them 
sorrowfully. At the woman who knelt near 
him, weeping, he did not in anywise look. 
And while we waited nearby and they grew 
vehement because he said no word, he 
stooped down and wrote with his finger in 
the sand. And this is what he wrote : 

"Of old time the Sons of God went in unto 
the daughters of men. Even so now. Only 
the Soul that requireth the things of this 
world is an adulterous soul, and is already 
condemned. 

"What shall it profit a man if he gain all 
things and all power, if he lose his love for 
man? In every man desire lies asleep. 
And God is in every man both to will and to 
do of his good pleasure. 

"Judge not, therefore, lest you condemn 
God in condemning men. The sins of men 
are also in the plan of God. 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 15 

'*God reads the heart." 

And beginning with the eldest, they went 
out one by one. 

Those are hidden sayings. We cannot 
hear them now, but the Holy Spirit that 
shall come into the world shall teach us all 
things and shall bear witness to them. 

They are pure, Antione, whose eye is 
single, who have one simple will; that is to 
say, all they are pure who are loving. If our 
soul sees only lovingness our whole body 
shall be full of light so we shall shine with 
the light of the knowledge of the glory of 
Love in the face of Jesus Christ. Love is 
agreement because it is unity. Paul says 
that though one give his body to be burned 
yet has not love, his sacrifice is nothing and 
he is become as a rattling cymbal and jarring 
brass. Whoso has looked into the face of 
the Christ knows of a surety the love that is 
from everlasting with the Father. I love 
you, Antione. 



YOUR wonderful letter, John! I want 
that love you tell me of, that leaves no 
room for fear. I need it — I need you to 
teach it to me. I long for you, my friend. 
I long to see your face. I fear I shall begin 
to hate those Christians who fill your 
thoughts and all your days, and keep you 
from me. 

I follow you everywhere, in my heart. 
As I sit here to-night, writing this, I long to 
know where you are and what are your 
labors. Ai-e you speaking to a great crowd 
in some market place to persuade them to 
the standard of Jesus ? Or are you gathered 
in a place apart with a few who also knew 
him, talking of the days when you walked 
together in Galilee? Or are you alone, my 
dear, dear friend, alone and weary and haply 
with naught wherewith to satisfy your 
hunger and nowhere to lay your head? It 

16 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 17 

tears my heart to think of your ofttimes 
loneliness and need, your hurried journeys, 
your wanderings in rough places, the mobs 
and disorders of those Jews I My dear, dear 
friend, do you know what it would mean to 
me if any evil should befall you? But I 
must not trouble you with my fears, I must 
not add to your burdens. I will try to be 
happy as you bid me, happy in your love, my 
wonderful friend, as you are happy in the 
love of your god. 

To-day I went with Xenia to hsten to the 
Grand chorus which is part of the festival 
to our god Dionysus — a thousand voices in 
harmony with the ring of cymbals in pa^an 
after psean of joy rose to the blue sky; the 
fragrance of flowers filled the warm air and 
garlands of flowers, like rainbows, spanned 
the sunht, tree-arched distances. Through 
it all your name sang in my heart; like a 
cord of gold the thought of you hnked all 
the light and color in feast before my eyes. 
Then out of the melodies of sound far and 



18 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

near, a voice, divinely sweet, seemed to whis- 
per to me "What joy hast thou, Earthborn, 
to lay upon this altar of my day?" And my 
heart sang in answer : "The love that John 
has waked in my soul is the greatest joy my 
life has ever known." 

And it seemed, dear one, that in that 
moment I laid my love for you in the hand of 
the great world god, and that my god and 
your god were the same. 

Antione. 



You will be glad, Antione, to know that 
your dear letter gave me much joy. 
Your God and my God indeed are one, for 
only by the power of the Holy Spirit, which 
is the indwelling love, can any be born either 
in the Spirit or in the flesh. Jesus said that 
God is love and love is God and there is 
naught but love. And there is no other 
name than love, Antione, given under heaven 
or among men, whereby we may be saved. 
Beloved, it is possible to the soul to be 
happy in any condition. If we be not 
happy, then are we striving to do what God 
has not given us to do — to bring to pass that 
for which the time is not yet ripe and we are 
grieved when our striving fails. But we, 
and haply those whom we would serve, 
would be yet more greatly grieved had it not 
failed. For God's thoughts are not as our 

19 



20 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

thoughts and the love of God makes reckon- 
ings of that of which we can not know. 

Be glad for me, Antione, for my work 
prospers, the Spirit of the Lord is upon me. 
I am not distressed either in body or in mind 
except, haply, as I feel your fears for me. 
Do not grieve me thus, Antione. I would 
have you always with that smile in your eyes 
and the sun in your hair as I saw you last. 
For it rejoices me to think of you so. What 
if I die ? It might even be that thus I would 
be nearer you and would never leave you. 
Death is naught, but as a step to be taken 
joyfully in its time as our steps upon the 
grass at the sound of song. 

ISTor am I distant from you, Beloved. I 
am with you when you do not dream it. 
And I will be with you yet again and more 
nearly, that the knowledge of my presence 
may never thereafter leave you. 

Philip's little boy is at play near me and 
has asked of me why I looked up at the light 
so long a time. I told him I was thinking 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 21 

of what more I would write and he said: 
'I think you might write a kiss.' I greatly 
love this little son of Philip. 

John. 



1HAVE carried your letter on my heart, 
John, my wonderful friend, my Well 
of Refreshment! It has lain there hke a 
thing alive, a warm, glowing thing throb- 
bing with the thoughts of your heart. Al- 
most I think I know the meaning of that 
love of yours in which there is no fear. I 
am no longer afraid to tell you of my life. 
I will not wait for your coming but will tell 
you now by letter, so that when you come to 
me again you may already know all. 

I was an only child — my mother died of 
my birth — and my father, who was a man of 
wealth and highly esteemed for his wisdom 
and ability in public affairs, became devoted 
to the philosopher Arules and at length per- 
suaded him to come and live in our home 
with the understanding that he would oc- 
casionally give me instruction. I was about 
fifteen at the time. 

22 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 23 

My childhood had been a lonely one, be- 
ing greatly circumscribed, as is the custom 
of our people. I longed constantly for 
those to whom I might talk, of whom I might 
ask questions — I longed to hear, to see, to 
understand. I had carried the mystic box 
in procession and had ground cakes in com- 
pany with other young girls for our patron 
goddess, but these were almost the only oc- 
casions on which I had been allowed to go 
beyond the walls of my father's house. My 
father was very kind but he was much con- 
cerned with public matters and had neither 
time nor inclination to attend upon me. He 
had great confidence in his slaves and in my 
old nurse who had been with me since my 
birth, and he considered that through them 
all reasonable requirements were provided 
for me. 

It was adjudged a daring innovation when 
it became known among his friends that he 
intended to have me instructed by a philos- 
opher. 



24 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

Hardly had a year passed before I learned 
to love Arules. Our lives had gradually be- 
come so intimately entwined that I knew 
not at the time how great a part of my own 
life his had become. I remember that as I 
passed his chamber I would touch lovingly 
the latch of the door his hand had touched; 
his papers, his garments, his favorite seat in 
the court, every thing associated with him 
became almost sacred to me, as a part of his 
dear self. 

He taught me that the purpose of life is 
growth. The union of souls, he said, should 
raise us to higher things. Marriage must 
not be considered merely as an escape from 
loneliness and limitations by the one and the 
acquisition of a constant ministrant to ma- 
terial needs by the other. It should be en- 
tered not as a remedy for poverty of soul, 
but in conscious strength and joy and lavish- 
ness of life. He held that neither state nor 
priest had any right to sanction or to forbid 
the union of two souls. More especially 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 25 

was it unreasonable, even hypocritical, for 
one who did not subscribe to tenets of state 
or priesthood to allow the supervision of 
either. And he insisted that two persons 
should live together only as long as they 
loved each other. 

His deep learning, the calm sureness of 
his convictions fascinated me. We talked 
frequently on the subject in the absence of 
my nurse and considered the matter from 
every aspect. He was kind and patient 
with my fears. I was indeed very fearful, 
for you know that the feeling of our people 
is strong against any laxness among women, 
and toward one who has been known to 
transgress custom almost any insult or in- 
dignity short of bodily injury is allowed. I 
knew that my father's position would render 
even a slight transgression of convention 
doubly heinous in the eyes of all who knew 
me, for you know it is a saying with our peo- 
ple that the woman most to be commended is 
she of whom least is said, either good or bad. 



26 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

Arules was entirely willing to acknowledge 
our union among our friends or at a meeting 
of friends gathered together for that pur- 
pose; but he would not, even for my sake, 
violate his principles by submitting to con- 
vention for convention's sake. He would 
willingly wait until I might arrive at his 
point of view and he made it a point of honor 
that we should not live together until I was 
fully convinced of the righteousness of the 
action. 

It was just at this time, when I was di- 
vided thus between my passionate love for 
Arules and my fear of the certain censure 
and ostracism of all about me, that my 
father was thrown from a chariot and so 
seriously injured that any excitement or 
shock might have proved fatal. And 
shortly after weighty matters entailed by 
the responsibility of a family estate 
required Amies' immediate presence in 
Corinth for an indefinite time. So I 
at last consented to a secret union until 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 27 

such time as my father should be strong 
enough to hear of it. 

Scarcely a week after my lover's depar- 
ture my father died suddenly, and before a 
month had passed I received word that 
Arules had been stricken with the plague. 
I flew to Corinth — to find him dead! 

My agony was too great for tears. For a 
time Euneo, my good old nurse who had 
travelled with me, even despaired of my re- 
gaining my reason. In my desolation, 
after I at length began to pick up the threads 
of my life, my one comfort was that I was to 
become a mother. Yet I was in a strange 
city, without friends, my condition a badge 
of shame. I shrank from every one, but 
never for an instant did I regret loving 
Arules. I was not able to make the journey 
to Athens so I awaited my time at Corinth. 

From the moment of her birth my little 
one has been to me a joy and consolation and 
the source of my greatest strength. When 
she was seven years old I returned to Athens 



28 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

with her and took up my abode again in my 
father's house. I was wealthy and I dehb- 
erately rejected the narrow hfe of women of 
my class, and at length my freedom of life 
was such that I came to be classed with the 
hetaerae.^ 

1 Hetaera: A female friend; later one of the assertors 
of women's right to education and culture, whose lives were 
often above reproach, and of whom Aspasia is the type. 
The Greeks, generally speaking, looked upon marriage 
merely as a means of producing citizens for the state, the 
education of women being almost neglected. Even private 
hetaerae were not mere prostitutes, but acted as flute or 
cithara players, and as dancers, and were, as such, fre- 
quently engaged to add to the splendor of family sacrifices, 
or to enliven or heighten the pleasure of men at their 
symposia. Most of these hetaerae not only took the great- 
est care to preserve their beauty and to acquire accomplish- 
ments, but they paid considerable attention to the cultiva- 
tion of their minds. The Arcadian Lastneneia was a disci- 
ple of Plato and Leontion was a disciple of Epicurus. 

It is even said of Aspasia that she instructed Socrates 
and Pericles. Whatever we may think of the historical 
truth of these and similar reports, they are of importance 
to the historian, inasmuch as they show in what light these 
hetaerae were looked upon by the ancients. It seems to have 
been especially owing to their superiority in intellectual 
cultivation over the female citizens that men preferred their 
society and conversation to that of citizens and wives; and 
that some hetaerae, such as Aspasia, Lais, Phryne, formed 
connections with the most eminent men of their age and 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 29 

My greatest desire has been to advance 
the independence and education of women 
in Athens and that Xenia may have a full 
and free and noble life. To this end I have 
allowed her to be my constant companion 
and to meet all my friends. She is worthy 
of all the liberty I can bestow upon her. 
Weakness is not her heritage. I look into 
the clear eyes of my precious little one and 
I read there the strength and courage of a 
fearless woman heart. I want her to be free 
to love the man who can wake the noblest 
love of her soul, and to choose the father of 
her child. I have offered up the sacrifice 
of my suffering in the cause of the freedom 
of women as you have dedicated your life to 
the truth that Jesus taught. 

It has been said that Arules deceived me. 
My contradiction is the life I have since led 

acquired considerable influence over their contemporaries. 
Women, however, of tlie intellect and character of Aspasia 
were exceptions — even Athenian citizens did not scruple to 
introduce their wives and daughters to her circles that they 
might learn there the secret by which they might gain and 
preserve the affection of their husbands. 



80 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

— intellectual Athens knows what it has 
been. But even if he did, what then? The 
depth of experience I have sounded, the dif- 
ficulties I have encountered, the criticism, 
the contumely, have but strengthened my 
soul and cleared my vision. 

You may already from unfriendly lips 
have heard somewhat of my story. I have 
now told it to you, freely and without reserve. 
If you now no longer care to see me — if I 
have seen you for the last time, then — Oh, I 
dare not think of it! But whatever your 
judgment may be, I know, dear friend, that 
it will be just and there will be at least the 
joy of an unquenchable love for you 
throughout such life as the gods have allotted 
to me. To let you go would be terrible, but 
it would be impossible to live a life of deceit 
before your eyes. 



1H AVE kept your letter by me for a day 
and a night, Antione, that I might read 
it at a more quiet time. And now the time 
is lacking to write you before the messenger 
must depart who will bear this to you, with 
other letters and salutations to those over 
whom my heart yearns, for they are but as 
little children in knowledge, and because of 
the strange teachings that have of late been 
brought to their ears many have been 
offended and are, as it were, without a home. 
Jesus' teaching was only "That ye love." If 
we love we are one with him ; if we love not 
we have no part in him. 

It behooves us who have known him face 
to face to comfort those who are weak, for 
the time seems near when many will fall 
away because of persecutions. Those in 
Jerusalem are fleeing to Pella. I have word 
of Paul in chains and in sore straits. Of 

31 



32 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

Onesimus I know not, nor of Peter. On a 
certain day Peter said to me: "The future 
is coming down on us with so great swiftness 
I care not what Caesar may do." All look 
to him as to a father, and the courage and 
fire of his love have burned out the fear of 
many who faltered. I trust indeed that 
Peter may be kept in safety for the upbuild- 
ing of the church. Yet the Father knows 
best what tool to keep and what to lay aside. 
The messenger waits. Farewell, Antione. 



DEAREST always, I have read your let- 
ter many times. And I seem to have 
lived many years since I read it first. I 
know now that you have never loved me. I 
laid my hfe and my heart bare before you. 
If you had ever loved me you would at such 
a time have given me assurance of it — some 
word to stay my confidence and heal my 
hurt. 

You have dedicated your life to those 
Christians and have little care for any others 
in need. I thought your love was wide and 
all-embracing. I thought that even if you 
did not love me greatly, you did indeed care 
for me truly. And yet, when now I have 
told you of my life, you are cold to me and 
show plainly that you have no real care for 
any but those Christians. Even such as but 
call themselves by that name, though you 

33 



34 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

know them faint-hearted and pitiably weak, 
are more dear to you than I who have laid at 
your feet the innermost confidence of my 
life and the treasure of my very soul. 

You have never loved me and my love for 
you might as well have been poured upon the 
sand of the desert. I turned from marriage 
with a man who loved me, to you, a man who 
did not love me. Of my love for you, long 
before I ever talked with you, even from that 
first day that I saw you with the wood- 
gatherers beyond the city, I have told you. 
And you have been first — you have been 
alone — in my heart since that day. Yet it 
is as nothing to you! Until I told you in 
words, you did not even know that I loved 
you! You have said that you love me, but 
you did not mean it. You do not even know 
what love means. You have deceived your- 
self but I will not be deceived, I will face 
this thing in my own heart and with you. I 
am no coward. I see now plainly that you 
have never loved me. For in my need, when 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 85 

I have reached out to you without reserve 
and trusted you with my all, you have no 
word for me but of some disturbance at Jeru- 
salem! What is that to me? Or of those 
who teach false doctrines and are weak and 
fearful — what have I to do with such as 
these? To them you write many letters, to 
them you give love without stint. For me 
you have nothing. 

You have joyed in my beauty perhaps. I 
know that I am beautiful. I know that I am 
unusual, intense; with great capacity for 
suffering as for loving — capacities that your 
nature is too cold to comprehend. And you 
have watched me, perchance, as might some 
philosopher an animal at the sacrifices, or the 
pantomime of one of an alien people. You 
have found interest in the mere spectacle of 
my living — perhaps you have even been 
somewhat flattered by my love for you, the 
while I have been as one writhing under the 
knife of torture! 

And I have loved you so! With a love 



36 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

that illumined and transformed all my 
nature, so that I longed to give all and would 
ask nothing. Such love is a consecration, 
whether it last for a day or for a lifetime. 
But it can not be that you have ever known 
such love. You are cold. You are remote, 
and not to be touched with any feeling for 
my pain. 

I have no heart to write more. I am as 
one for whom all joy of hfe has been blotted 
out. 

A. 



I FORGET all my pride and my pain, 
dear friend, in the fear that some evil 
may have befallen you. It is now a month 
and seven days since I sent my letter to you 
and there is yet no word from you. Philip 
also has been here and has no report of you. 
And there are other friends who wait anx- 
iously for some news of your work and your 
welfare. Can you not send us but a word, 
that we may rest in the assurance that all is 
well with you? 

Antione. 



37 



IT is now two months and a day, my dear, 
dear friend, since I who love you have 
heard of how you fare or even where you are. 

I suffer in my need for some news of you, 
John. No hour since your last letter to me 
first lay open in my hands has been free from 
pain — it is as if I had sounded every note in 
the whole gamut of human suffering — but 
now my anxiety for your welfare, your 
safety, has swallowed up all else and I long 
for nothing as I do to have some word from 
you. 

I send these letters to you by whatever 
merchant or traveller I hear may be jour- 
neying toward Pergamos but I do not know 
whether they will ever find you or whether 
you are not even now in some distant place. 
If I have no word from you shortly at least 
through some of your friends, I will send a 



38 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 39 

letter by the most trusted of the slaves my 
father gave me. I can not bear this longer ; 
I must know somewhat of you, John, for oh, 
my wonderful friend and teacher, I love you, 
love you, and it matters no longer to me 
whether you love me or not. I can not live 
without you and this great wall of silence 
between us is breaking my heart. I have no 
longer any pride, I have nothing, I know 
nothing, but that I love thee, thou wonder- 
ful Thought, that I have no longer any life 
apart from my love for thee! 

Antione. 



The occasional use of Thee and Thou possibly points to 
a transition of these letters through some other language. — 
Ed. 



ANTIONE, Antione, how could you so 
distrust me? Did I not tell you even 
beforehand that no word or deed of yours 
could change my love for you? Then when 
your long letter came, telling me of your 
early life, what more was there that I could 
say to you? It was as nothing — where you 
lived with Arules, or how, if you but loved 
him. Perhaps I might have said this again 
in my letter to you — yet to what purpose, 
since you did surely know it and did also 
know that there is no law but love? Why 
should we waste words, Beloved, upon that 
which is past and has value only as it has a 
measure of love, and, to that measure, is 
understood already of me and of you, and 
is justified and perfect before him who so 
loved us that he sent his only begotten son 
that we may know that he that dwelleth in 
love dwelleth in God and God in him. 

40 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 41 

Antione, whoso has looked in the Divine 
Face knows this surely, that God is love and 
every one that loves is born of God. You 
are strong because you can love greatly, and 
you have therefore less need of me than those 
who love but little and hence are faint- 
hearted and full of fear. I write unto them 
lest they fall by the way and attain not unto 
the joy of fellowship with the Father. 
Would you that I leave them to perish be- 
cause they are weak? Jesus did not so. It 
is to these least among his brethren that my 
love goes out as would yours to any who 
looked to you for succor. 

You are strong, Antione, and I have faith 
in your strength, because I have faith in your 
love. The time of my return is near at hand 
and I will see you shortly. 

John. 



JOHN, John, almost you persuade me 
that this love of which you tell me that 
it casts out all fear — is more to be desired 
than all things else beside. Your letter 
brought such comfort to my heart, and joy 
unspeakable that I am to see you. I feel 
that I must come to you, wherever you may 
be, thou more than lover and brother and 
friend to me, if thou dost not speedily come 
to mel 

A. 



42 



SINCE that wonderful hour when, in 
thine arms, John, my beloved, I gave 
myself to the luxury of giving, thou hast 
filled me with love for all the world. My 
heart can not hold such a flood of ecstasy — 
it must overflow to all that touch my life. 
My only desire is for greater capacity to love 
the dearest of all on the earth! My one 
sorrow is that even in giving you all, I have 
yet so little to give you. 

I know that you do not love me as I love 
you, but this troubles me no longer. You 
do indeed love me but with a love that is 
different, strange, unlike that of any man I 
ever knew. But I would rather have this 
love of my Beloved, than that of all the 
world of men beside. 

You satisfy the highest outreach and 
yearning of my soul, you answer the hum- 

43 



44 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

blest need of my nature, you fill my whole 
being. My love for you, dear one, is as an 
ever lengthening change of sweet equalities, 
an endless chain of sweeter contradictions. 
It is a mystery that envelopes me, a mystic 
light that penetrates to the innermost secrets 
of my soul. It is to know that if I spent 
with you my mortal and immortal Hves I 
could never be satiated, yet that the bliss of 
one hour with you would glorify eternity. 

In my love for thee to-day, thou Soul of 
Love, the gods themselves must know an 
added joy, and the sun a new radiance! 
Long ago you wrote me that you would one 
day be with me in such wise that the knowl- 
edge of your presence would never there- 
after leave me. And now it is even so. The 
*'Dear Presence" is what I name to myself 
the embrace of your soul in your absence — a 
closer, sweeter embrace than I knew even 
when with you face to face. The air about 
me is instinct with your spirit, and my spirit 
becomes radiant, vibrating at the touch of 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 45 

your wonderful vitality. I forget my lone- 
liness and longing for you — all the pain and 
weariness of other years; I feel again the 
throbbing of your great heart upon my 
heart. I drink my fill of my well of refresh- 
ment and lose all the littleness of my sep- 
arate life in the greatness, the joy of the 
Dear Presence that lies constantly close to 
my soul. 

I lived a long life, a new life, in those hours 
I spent with you. And the dear things you 
said to me — deep things and wonderful, 
sweet things and tender — come back to me 
now and again like a fragrance. Those 
precious moments with you, dear heart, were 
like a string of pearls about my forehead, 
around my breasts, a girdle encircling my 
waist, and yet all too short! I would have 
lavish ropes of them to bind me everywhere 
about and sweep the hem of my garment ! 

I am like one who having had a wonderful 
dream or vision that has changed in some 
subtle way all the values and relations of life 



46 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

and made the whole world new, yet lacks the 
full interpretation of it and desires above all 
things to learn the perfect, hidden meaning 
it may hold. For what you did show me of 
your love was a vision and a revelation to me 
— you revealed me to myself and shared with 
me somewhat of your own radiant spirit. 

I had heard of you in the beginning from 
those who listened to you speaking in the 
market places and in the courts, as a wild 
dreamer and iconoclast ; from others as a man 
of such mild speech that those who listened 
thought you mocked them as being but chil- 
dren before you. But when I heard you for 
myself, then I knew. My spirit in that 
instant knew in yours its creator 1 Your 
gentleness and childlikeness woke again in 
me the little child that lives forever at the 
heart of even the most earth- worn of us, your 
force and fire found their way to the very 
roots of my being. It was as though I had 
been seeking you all my life. And now that 
I have found you at last, oh dearer than life 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 47 

to me, I can never more lose youl For it is 
not your love for me but mine for you that 
will bind you closer than breath to my being 
forever ! 

O, I could write my heart out thus to you 
endlessly — the Dear Presence seems nearer 
as I write! But I must weary you with my 
song of love, love, only love. Tell me, 
Beloved, could my loving ever weary you? 
Would you that I should hide my joy of you 
in my own heart only? You who are so 
pitiful to all who reach out to you in their 
need — it is a deep need of mine to tell you 
of my love — be patient with my longing for 
you, let me be one of the httle children of 
your love. 

Antione. 



ANTIONE, my Heart! Who am I 
that you should bring to me such 
treasure of your love? Your love, nor the 
song of your love, can never weary me. I 
rejoice to know that you can love so greatly. 
Loving is the beginning of wisdom and the 
fulfillment and bringing to an end of law. 
We understand nothing except in so much 
as we love, because by love does the mind of 
God enter into the minds of men. 

Yet is love one thing and the one beloved 
somewhat other, and we must keep ourselves 
from idols. But if we love the more greatly 
and not the more narrowly, when we look 
into the eyes of our beloved, our idol, then let 
us look until we see there even the eyes of 
Christ. For he said that where even two are 
joined together in the name of love, there he 
abides also to work his good pleasure with 



48 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 49 

them and among men, for wherever there is a 
soul that loves,where two are joined together, 
there also the Father appears to us, and there 
is the habitation of God. 

The narrow love, that which desires in 
retm^n love for the self, which considers self 
and the things of self and them that minister 
to the self more than it considers any others, 
this love brings but pain and leaves the soul 
without content. But when the vision 
comes, and that larger truth that makes free 
the soul, we care not for ourselves nor those 
near to us in kin or in affection more than for 
any other that has need, and we then have 
done with disquiet and with grief. It is this 
larger love that leads unto the peace of God 
which passes understanding and this is a 
peace which the world of material things can 
neither give nor take away. 

The time will come, Antione, that the dear 
love you now give to me you will give in like 
measure to all the world. That is the 
greatest blessing and the deepest joy, and 



50 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

therefore I wish it for you, and therein I 
wish for you, Beloved One, that perfect 
peace of God. 

John. 



LIFE of my life ! I know no name more 
fitting by which to salute you, dearest I 
Can it indeed be that I will ever love any 
other on the earth as I now love you, John? 
You are very wise, dear heart, but I think in 
this you have somewhat erred. Yet let it be 

so — only I know that I can never love you 
lessl 

You are like glistening snow on a moun- 
tain top, in the dazzling beauty of your 
spirit, in your aloofness, in the calm, poised, 
impersonal strength of your attitude toward 
this love that sways and lashes my whole 
being into white-hot life. My life to-day 
seems one passion of desire that craves from 
you an answering life of burning kisses — an 
ecstacy that longs ceaselessly, achingly, for 
the uttermost communion. 

You do not feel this. I know that you do 
not. Yet you seem to have some still more 

51 



52 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

wonderful joy that includes and transcends 
mine. I know well now why the master you 
love so loyally, loved you above all others. 
You are filled to overflowing and lifted up 
with love to draw all hearts to you ! It may 
be that some day you will see into heaven 
and tell us of the love made perfect there — 
I can imagine you far away in some lonely 
isle, lost in the beauty of your vision! 

But perhaps, if a vision of perfect love 
became permanent it might cause one to lose 
one's balance for this world — as the Latin 
has it, eoc statio — a standing out and above 
all things we know as fixed. You know 
Eros drove Psyche with the gadfly of desire 
— but you will say that is because her love 
was limited to one. Could you ever have 
known, I wonder, that love that is such 
terrible pain to a woman — that aches, fam- 
ishedly, for union with the one she loves? 
Could any woman ever grow to realize that 
impersonal, super-personal love of yours 
that draws me to you irresistibly, that com- 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 53 

forts and calms me unspeakably, and yet is 
my despair! 

Yet I am happier in love with a zealot 
fighting to vindicate his strange beliefs than 
I should be as the wife of Xanthus, the writer 
of words, words, words, immortal as his 
words have made him. Every drop of your 
blood is Jewish; I am Greek in every fibre 
of my being; yet I rejoice in your work, your 
spirit, your ideals, even when I do not quite 
comprehend them. It is as if my love for 
you melted the difficulties and shone upon 
the dark places and brought us even nearer 
than abstract understanding ever could. So 
complete is my trust in you that even if I 
saw you do what is evil it would be impossi- 
ble for me to believe my own eyes. I often 
wonder how it is that any can resist you — 
how it can be possible that even one in a 
crowd of people that listens to your voice — 
can yet lift up his voice against you. Such 
an one must indeed be possessed of a devil! 
You have so swayed my life and brought my 



54 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

whole being under your power — and I am 
no weakling — it seems that even though you 
preach such a new, strange truth, none could 
long withstand you. 

Oh, my wonderful Love, teach me always ! 
Teach me more fully, more deeply — it is not 
that I would draw you down to me, but that 
I would rise to you! At all cost I must be 
yet nearer to you I 

Antione. 



You shall indeed be nearer to me, An- 
tione, dear love; you will grow ever 
closer with the growing of your love; you 
will be closest to me when your love is 
greatest. 

Those who do not love enough to under- 
stand are not therefore possessed of devils — 
they are only still as little children in the 
truth and hence to be loved the more. And 
yet even devils are not to go unloved. They 
also serve. I did not always know this. 
When Jesus cast the seven devils out of the 
Magdalene I prayed him to send them 
speedily to their own place of torment but 
he said, *'Think you that these devils are not 
also under authority? The Father hath 
need of them in this world and when their 
work is well finished he will take them unto 
himself." There is no place in this world 

55 



56 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

or in any other, Antione, where love is not 
at home. 

I would not have you name the truth of 
Jesus a new, strange truth. Beloved, for it is 
not new, but has been from the beginning. 
By it were the worlds fashioned, and without 
it was not anything made that was made. 
For the truth of Jesus, the Word that he 
spake unto us, the God that he showed and 
declared unto us, is only Love. There is no 
other power and this only is the life of every 
living thing. It is the Word that was made 
flesh and dwelt among us. It is the bread 
of life, the only door into the Sheepfold, the 
only rock on which to build,, the only way of 
salvation for the world. 

One eventide, when we had come with him 
to the hills above Bethany, we were weary, 
for we had come by the ford of Bethabara, 
a long journey, and it was yet far to the 
home of Mary. We had with us a little 
bread and he would that we rest there for the 
night and on the morrow go down into the 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 57 

town. And after we had eaten he tarried 
yet with us, speaking of that which had been 
by the way, and of one who had disputed 
with him that only by searching into the 
hidden things of the law can men become 
acceptable unto God, and by striving in 
sacrifices and in worship, attain to him. 

And he said, "A certain king builded a 
temple in a marsh, and because the stones of 
it were great they sank into the mire and the 
temple fell, and with it were the workmen 
also swallowed up. And again the king 
builded upon the ruins thereof, and this 
temple also sank and the mire was raised up 
over all that place. When the king there- 
fore saw that the last state was worse than 
the first, he cast into the marshy place a 
living seed and the seed grew and became a 
great tree so that the whole place was dried 
up by reason of the roots of the tree; and 
under its shadow, behold there was the new 
temple of God." 

And one of the twelve asked him of the 



58 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

parable and he answered: "The marsh is 
the wickedness of the world, which is division 
and hatred and all uncharitableness, and the 
stones of the temple are sacrifices and gifts, 
but the seed is love and from it groweth the 
kingdom of God. Verily, I say unto you 
that this seed when it springeth up to heaven 
shall bring forth a new earth, meet for right- 
eousness." 

Antione, it is with this love that I labor. 
It is because I know and am assured that 
naught can stand before the coming of the 
Lord Jesus, who is the love of God made 
flesh, that I preach this truth. If we say 
we love God and love not men, we lie. We 
can not know the love of God except we 
know the love of man. For this reason was 
the Word, which is love, made flesh, that he 
might be even as other men dwelling amongst 
us. 

I speak to you of that which is in my heart, 
Antione, because it is a joy to me that you 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 59 

find so great treasure in loving, for even in 
like measure must your whole life be en- 
larged. 

John. 



THE growing vision of thy love, John, 
my Star and my Sun, melts all the 
hardness and pride of my natm^e. It en- 
larges my horizon and enriches everj^ per- 
ception. It makes every happiness, even 
the least, seem as a fragrant rainbowed joy, 
new-born from the dawn of the gods. My 
heart can not hold so much, but floods run 
over the brim ! 

Until I knew this deepest love for you I 
think I never saw the depth of sadness in the 
eyes of those who pass in the streets, for not 
all the suffering I had fathomed had given 
me such insight into human hearts, into the 
wilderness of mortal pain, as has your love 
— and my love for you ! 

I never found such sheer delight in the 
sunlight and shadow flecking Xenia's hair, 
as she sits there now in the court with Pas- 

60 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 61 

idea, spinning. And this tall white lily in 
its slender vase on the table beside me — even 
its beauty seems to share somewhat of the 
radiance of the Dear Presence that enfolds 
me as I write. 

When I gathered my flowers this morning 
before the sun had touched the dial, this per- 
fect blossom suddenly unfolded itself to me 
as I stood near it. It gave me such joy! I 
held it to my heart and loved it. Almost it 
seemed to speak to me and look into my eyes. 

Last night a flute player passed near, 
along the street called Hestia, playing softly 
in the moonlight and now and again pausing 
to sing the words — a song I knew in my 
childhood. At length he stopped imder my 
window and the words came clearly to me as 
I sat by the fountain in the court. And they 
seemed to span the years — to thread the 
years of days that lie between that yester- 
day and this to-day, as pearls are strung 
upon a silken strand — and it seemed to me 
in that moment that all of my life had been 



62 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

but as a path that led me to you, a prepara- 
tion for you, a making ready as a chalice is 
shaped and graven for a special use — for 
the wine of your Olympian gift! 

And suddenly I was glad again, glad for 
everything, even the pain; it has all been as 
fuel to feed the quenchless fire of my love for 
you! You would say, rather, it has but 
made me a fitter instrument for the service 
of others and that this is the true goal. It 
may be that you are right. I do not know. 
I only know I love thee, love thee with my 
whole being, O thou who art blessed with the 
breath of the gods ! 

Somewhat you have shared with me your 
abiding realization of a god all lovingkind- 
ness, who sorrows in our sorrow and allows 
pain only because we could not have feeling 
and experience without it. Hitherto the 
saying of the cynics — "Zeus and Fate, to 
whom mankind are equally dear" — has been 
constantly on my lips. But you are so filled, 
as it were, with the knowledge of your god 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 63 

that those who are near to you must, per- 
force, know something of him, and those who 
love you learn unconsciously to love him in 
you. 

Often when I ask you questions your 
spoken answer does not satisfy me fully, but 
later — alone with the Dear Presence — the 
deeper meaning comes to me. And fre- 
quently your own words come back to me — 
after intervening days of distracting activ- 
ity and the blurring confusion of many in- 
fluences about me — like the first strong lines 
of some overwritten scroll, indelible beneath 
the surface scrawls. 

Sometimes I think my days are far too 
full — I have no time in which to know my- 
self, no room in which to grow. I have 
drawn to me in earlier years many persons 
and influences that of late I seem to have 
outgrown. In the light of the vision you 
have given me, much that I thought of ad- 
vantage to me and to be desired, now appears 
inconsiderable, even cumbersome. And the 



64 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

dust of the skeleton of yesterday clogs the 
nostrils of to-day's new being. So many of 
my days now seem to me little more than 
a maelstrom of petty, useless doings. I 
would measure my living now by the new 
standard you have shown me, yet I do not 
know how to begin. 

Do you understand how I feel about this ? 
Can you tell me what to do? You always 
understand me. I am always absolutely 
myself when I am with you. More than 
any man I have ever known, you seem to see 
into the hearts of women. Can it be that 
you were indeed a woman in some incarna- 
tion? 

Come to me again, come to me, O thou 
light that shines upon the throne of the gods ! 
that I may grow like unto thee, and, even as 
the flowers in the sunlight, may unfold in 
the joy of thy presence! 

Antione. 



YOUR letter gave me joy, Antione. 
It brought a vision of you to me — 
your bright hair, the hly beside you, the sun- 
hght, the fountain, Xenia and the other 
children. Your home is to me also a home, 
Antione. It has been great happiness to 
me. Yet it has no less been a joy to me 
that, even as Jesus, I likewise have not had 
where to lay my head and have slept, even 
as he did, beneath the stars, by the wayside, 
on the mountain-top, in the desert. 

One day at even, as we sat near the bank 
of a little stream where we had stopped to 
quench our thirst, he took in his hand a lily 
and spake to us of himself, that he was as 
one of the wild flowers of that valley, un- 
noticed of the multitude, but a healing to the 
eyes of those whose hearts are opened to him. 
The lilies of the wayside show forth the 
beauty of holiness and give praise to him 

65 



66 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

who gave them life, by manifesting his love 
in their growth. Men see not their use, yet 
they also wait upon the Lord. Thus he 
spake unto us and mine eyes were opened so 
that since that day my heart yearns in love 
toward every living thing, even the grass, 
for it also after its kind doth blossom and 
bring forth fruit in the love of God the Fa- 
ther, as the leaf of every tree draws higher 
up the life of God. 

It matters not, Antione, whether we say 
that suffering opens the door to love, or to 
service, for they are one. He who loves 
greatly is that living sacrifice that above all 
things is acceptable to God. Love is a flame 
that both lights and warms, and in so doing 
serves. Love is born of happiness and also 
of suffering, and all things are born of love, 
even that joy that naught else can give and 
naught can take away. 

There is a baptism of pain. I remember 
how that when Lazarus was dead and his 
sisters came out to meet us Martha came 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 67 

first, and Jesus kissed her and talked with 
her because she was strong, and he said unto 
her that if one but love, though he be dead 
yet shall he live again. But Jesus loved 
Mary, and when she was come he spoke no 
word to her and gave her no kiss, but as they 
walked he went near unto her and took her 
by the hand and it was as if virtue passed 
from him to her, for he suffered with her and 
wept, and in that hour she was born again 
and baptized of tears and of the Spirit into 
eternal life. 

It may indeed be that your time is cum- 
bered with that which is not of love. Do 
not give to others of your time or of your 
self that which you do not in your heart 
greatly desire to give. If we do only those 
things that we love to do, our love and joy 
will increase with our doing. So is love a 
fulfihnent of the purpose of the law. Even 
if in this way we err, we need not sorrow for 
these errors; they too will fulfil themselves 
and bear fruit of love because the seed of 



68 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

them was sown in love. In my life I have 
made many and great errors, but there is no 
one of them that I repent me of, for through 
them I comprehend the more, and therefore 
serve more wisely. When you come to 
know of a truth, Antione, that God is in 
you to will and to do of his good pleasure, 
you know thereby that what pleases you to 
do is the will of God. Only unloving sac- 
rifice is grievous. The burden of love is 
light and its yoke is easy and brings neither 
strain nor pain. The natural desire of him 
whose eye is single is divine. To turn away 
from this is not acceptable to God. 

Philemon has told me of your care of the 
needy in their distress, and it rejoices my 
heart. I love thee, Antione. 

John. 



THY dear letter, John, has shed upon my 
home, my liHes, all these simple things 
thine eyes have rested on and thy thought 
noted, as it were a radiant, special blessing, 
and has thus set them, glorified, apart from 
every other thing! 

My love for you has set me, too, apart, as 
one who must give royally because of this 
great gift to herself — the gift of your hal- 
lowing love that I have as a crown upon my 
head! 

When this last letter came to me from 
you, I laid between my breasts the roll that 
could not feel and I loved the mere uncon- 
scious touch of what your hand had handled. 
Sometimes the coming of a letter from you 
makes me faint. I put it in my bosom and 
force myself to complete whatever I am en- 
gaged upon, and all the while the blood from 
out my heart beats up to throat and cheek 

69 



70 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

as if clamoring for this message from thine 
own heart to it! Oh John, John, will you 
not write me indeed a love letter — one from 
your very heart to my heart that hungers 
for it? 

When lone was here I read from your let- 
ter to her, wherein you speak of being made 
strong through suffering, and that it is pos- 
sible, despite whatever pain, yet to have joy. 
This is a dark saying to one of tender years 
and taught to believe that happiness is the 
favor of the gods. To such an one, sorrow 
must needs seem rather as a form of con- 
demnation. 

It must be as the cynics say, that our be- 
liefs are sprung from out our sore neces- 
sities. Perhaps the mind that could not 
face undaunted those depths of human pain, 
framed, as a drug to dull his mental anguish, 
a philosophy built upon faith in the be- 
neficence of pain. It would seem a grue- 
some faith — life but a long road of suffering 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 71 

drowned in death, and beauty a thing of no 
avail ! 

Poor, sorrowful lone ! I feel almost that 
she must adjudge me stupid, brutal, when I 
would strive to comfort her, for full well do 
I know, as she knows, what her future holds 
— she may not even walk upon the street 
without fear of insult, nor put her foot upon 
the temple steps without danger of bodily 
injury. 

It is hard to see such suffering as hers, 
though one may know it to be indeed the 
birth-pangs of a soul. 

Yet when I think of your calm, strong 
face, dear Herald of Peace to my heart ! and 
remember all of sorrow and of grief your life 
has known, I am soothed and somewhat com- 
forted and made strong. But, apart from 
you, all things seem only an endless, un- 
fathomable maze. 

I am yours, always yours, 

Antione. 



ANTIONE : lone has been also in my 
heart, as you have been, in all your lov- 
ing service to her. I am with you in your 
labors as you are with me in mine, as it were 
in some measure speaking also through me in 
the streets and in my letters to the churches. 
I in you and you in me, Antione, that we 
may be one indeed in him who is one with the 
Father. And the Father knows when you 
need a love letter, and will send you one by 
my hand or perhaps in that of some other 
messenger. Some of my love letters to you 
were written by the hand of Arules ; to others 
there have been signed other names. But be 
assured, Antione, that all true love letters 
come from the same Hand, for the source of 
love is One. 

Because we are all of one flesh, therefore 
while we live we must also suffer ; for it is our 
oneness with all others that is proven to us by 

72 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 73 

one pain and that even as they, we also must 
feel with them to the uttermost. Had we no 
pain, though in a world of pain, then were 
we dead indeed, buried among the living. 

We learn likewise by our pleasures, and 
it may be even more than by our pain, as 
do also little children. But if we will not 
learn in pleasure, then must we be taught 
through pain. Unless we become as little 
children, we can in no wise enter the king- 
dom of heaven, which is love. Little chil- 
dren dehght in the outpouring of their love 
and are therefore filled with joy. They 
take no thought for the morrow for they 
know of a truth that sufficient unto the day 
is the good thereof. They have no care, they 
do not strive; the joy that is within their 
hearts makes itself manifest even in their 
dancing footsteps, and when they sleep they 
also smile for happiness. 

We have no need to strive nor take 
thought in care for ourselves or for others, 
for even as over little children, so is love over 



74 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

all our ways. The Father worketh hitherto, 
even before we were born into the world, and 
we know he would in no wise find himself 
without an instrument to do his will should 
we this day leave off from serving him. 

It is Love in the stars of heaven that keep 
them in their courses, it is Love in the grass 
and lilies of the field that makes them draw 
drink and nourishment from the earth, that 
makes the crystal cleave always in accord- 
ance with its own desire, that keeps the 
breast warm, the eye moist. If all things 
created were not God, then would God 
weary in the ordering of them. Would it 
not weary you to keep your body in its own 
order, to take thought to make the nostrils 
breathe, the heart beat, the joints supply 
that which gives ease to their action? Yet 
because throughout your body is but one 
life, and that is your own life, all these things 
are thereby ordered without your thought, 
as are likewise all things made by the love 
of God, without which was not anything 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 75 

made that was made. It is written "I said 
ye are Gods and every one of you shall be 
called the children of God." 

In the beginning was the Word of love 
and the Word was made flesh. It is this 
love that gives life and makes our bodies 
warm, that makes our breasts to heave and 
our joints to act as is needful for their use. 
And where there is love there is, therefore, 
no need for striving or for care. 

Likewise throughout all things that God 
hath created. The fibres of your flesh, An- 
tione, are as the sands of the sea for multi- 
tude, yet is there any one of them that you 
can prick with a needle and have no knowl- 
edge of it? Likewise there is not a hair of 
your head, nor a weed of the field, nor a fowl 
of the air, that is a stranger to the love of 
God, and each one is guided by his love in 
all its ways unto the perfect fulfilment of 
his love for all. 

As the strength flows swiftly into the 
raised arm of the workman, where is the 



76 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

greater need for strength, though he gives 
no command nor does he strive and cry for 
this, so also unto the least of his little ones 
does the love of God, of its own accord and 
without taking of thought, bring unto those 
who serve what is needful for their service, 
unto those who love that for which the love 
of their souls hath need. For unto all 
things comes that which is their own, by the 
law of the outworking of the love of God, 
than which there is no other law. And if it 
seems otherwise with us, and that we do not 
have our own when we yet long for it and 
sorely desire it, then is it of a certainty that 
the time is not ripe, we do not yet need this 
thing nor would we really profit by it. For 
God's arm is not shortened, neither is he 
slack or slow to understand, and to the love 
of God are all desires of our hearts laid bare. 
That which we desire in love, doth he also 
desire, for it is he that loveth and worketh 
in us. But we know that our wisdom does 
not attain unto the measure of his wisdom, 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 77 

therefore must we abide in his love, until 
we know the working of his wisdom for us 
and in us. 

The one commandment that Jesus gave 
us is to love; not only to love one another, he 
denied that, saying, *'If ye love them that 
love you, what thank have ye? do not sinners 
also the same?" As you love lone, your 
thought therefore devises service for her, 
seeking no return. And this is well because 
it is born of love. But you do not need 
therefore to be distressed lest pain come to 
her from others, nor strive to order all her 
days that they be free from pain. If in the 
outworking of the love of God it is ordered 
that pain shall come to her, then would you 
be working against God and not lovingly if 
you rob her of that gift of grief. 

I am with thee, Antione, and my love is 

always about thee, as the mountains are 

round about Jerusalem. 

John. 



JOHN! My heart is full of joy since 
Philip has told me that your labors in 
Parthia are near an end and that you then 
purpose to come again for a little space to 
those who have waited long, so long, to see 
your face! 

I was thinking that I might even have to 
become miserable or hungry or in some wise 
greatly unfortunate to share any more in 
the love of him whose chief care is those for 
whom none other cares. It is now more 
than four months since any here have seen 
you, yet I hear from Prochorus of your con- 
stant work among the needy ! 

Oh, Source of all my Joy and very 
Breath of life to me, do you not know that I 
also am needy? You have taught me to 
need you — to want you above all else. You 
tarry there to feed the hungry. But am I 

78 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 79 

not likewise hungry? Come and feed me 
also, for my whole being is parched with 
thirst for you. 

A. 



WHEN you left me last night, John, 
Answerer of my every need! I was 
filled with a deep, quiet peace. I had given 
and taken — given of myself to the uttermost 
and taken of you to my fill. I was at rest 
— satisfied. 

You reach the deep-hidden mother fount 
in me; the tears of mother-love spring in 
me at your gentle touch. The crowning 
joy of my life would be that I might have a 
child conceived in your embrace — that I 
might know the bliss of clasping your little 
one to my breast. There are some things in 
this world that are of such absolute value in 
themselves that no price is too great to be 
paid for them. 

Your presence is with me still, your face 
bending over me — the face of a god ! When 
I waked this morning and opened my eyes 
to the sky, it was into your eyes that I looked. 

80 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 81 

The thought of you is always my first 
thought, as it is my last thought and the 
burden of all my dreams! 

Every hungry longing of my heart seemed 
to reach its zenith of realization just in the 
joy of your presence last night. Your 
touch filled me with content. But when I 
remembered this to-day it seemed to me that 
I had been selfish, in that I was willing to 
take of your treasure endlessly, just for the 
joy of the taking! But I am ambitious for 
you, also, and I long that the world may 
know your great heart as I know it, and that 
your epistles may be known and read 
throughout the world! 

Poor lone has been with me this morn- 
ing. I prayed that I might say the right 
word to her, that I might give her in some 
measure of that peace that you have given 
to me. I took her in my arms — these arms 
that yours have encircled. I pressed her 
hand in mine and laid it against my cheek — 
my hand that still thrills with the touch of 



82 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

your own upon it — my cheek that reddens 
and pales at the mere thought of you! 

If she has gained succor, it is you who 
have succored her through me. I feel I 
must spend lavishly, splendidly, the riches 
your love has bestowed upon me. If I 
should even try to keep them for myself my 
heart would burst with its fulness! 

My love for you is the gift of the gods to 
me! It is my great life-work just to love 
you, and tune my life and every life that 
touches mine to your measure of loving! 
And though I may have to pay for my 
height of joy with an equal depth of pain — 
it is worth this also — worthy any price! 

A. 



ANTIONE, beloved. I am moved to 
write to you, for to-day my soul is filled 
with joy. I would have your joy hkewise 
full that our fellowship may be complete. 
For I am assured of a truth that joy is the 
natural life of man, for love is of God in 
whom we live, and we know that we have 
passed from death unto life, because we love. 

lone's trouble is ours, as the pain of a 
hand or a foot is the pain of the whole body. 
We are members one of another. How can 
we comfort one part alone? How can we 
say we have the love of God in us unless we 
likewise trust him with those whom we love? 

I trust that I shall shortly see you face 
to face. 

John. 



JOHN: I have become entangled in a 
discussion with HeHodorus as to certain 
problems of good and evil. I repeated to 
him also somewhat that you have said to me 
of these matters, but I have insufficient 
knowledge of your doctrine. 

If you do not see wickedness, but rather 
only error, is it that through ignorance one 
may, as it were, for a time fail to reach the 
mark set for him? Tell me then by what 
standard you judge what is right in our re- 
lations to men, and in action. 

Heliodorus returns in the evening to con- 
tinue our conversation. My slave will 
await your answer. 

A. 



84 



ANTIONE: When we love, we desire 
to do yet more than the law could re- 
quire of us. Hence is love the fulfilment of 
the purpose of the law, and also makes an 
end of the law. 

It is better that we ask of ourselves not 
"Is it right?" but "Is it loving?" 

John. 



85 



WHY, oh why, should it be that you are 
not with me to-night — the last night, 
John, and you away in conference with your 
friends and I here alone and so pitifully 
longing for you I 

I know they need your counsel. I would 
not send you this letter until their need of 
you is filled. I write to ease my own pain. 
O the letters and letters I write to you and 
never sendl Xenia says I write continu- 
ally. Yet I write to no one but you. O for 
one hour with you before you leave me 
alone! 

Antione. 



86 



THE HARVEST 

EVEN as when in your letter, Antione, 
you cried out that I had forgotten to 
come to you, albeit it was the last night be- 
fore my departure on my long journey, so 
do those who are faint-hearted fear that evil 
will befall them on every hand. 

When I did come to you in the late watches 
of the night, you doubted that it was in- 
deed I. Fear had outrun even the percep- 
tions of love. Yet when you heard my 
voice, when my hand rested upon your hand, 
when I made myself known to you beyond 
peradventure, then your fear faded away 
and could no more return because you 
leaned upon my breast and needed not the 
assurance of any, nor that any should testify 
of me. 

Even so, Antione, have I leaned upon the 

87 



88 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

bosom of him whom I loved, his sayings sank 
into my ears, his spirit entered into my 
spirit, the word that was made flesh became 
bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh, and 
I thereby became one with him as he is one 
with the Father. For this reason I am as- 
sured that the Holy Spirit cometh not by 
doctrine but only by love. 

Jesus said it must needs be that offences 
come, for great love is born of hardship and 
sore trial and even of the enmity of those 
we love. And they through whom offence 
cometh reap their own harvest of woe, even 
as Jesus also said and charged us that we 
therefore regard such an one with the greater 
love, in like measure with the woe that his 
service of offence has meted out to him. 

God requireth naught of us but that we 
love. They who go about preaching other 
doctrines, and saying Lo here or Lo there 
is the way of salvation, do but darken the 
truth that Jesus the Christ lived in our 
midst and deny also the word of him that 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 89 

sent him. These are Anti-Christ, who would 
lead astray if it were possible even the elect. 
Antione, it is because thou art filled with 
love, and therefore thy whole body is filled 
with light, as of the sun, that I dehght in my 
love for thee! Yet more would those who 
know not love delight in thy abundance, be- 
cause they have the greater need. I would 
that thou couldst give thyself unto them 
even as unto me. For so shalt thou attain 
unto yet more abundant life. 

John. 



1AM again depressed and full of fears 
to-night, dear heart. Johnl If only 
I might know for one moment the touch of 
your hand on my brow! I am restless and 
my head is hot. My way led me through 
that part of the city in which there is much 
fever when I went to-day to find poor lone. 
She is ill and can not even be moved that 
she may be brought to my house. Ah, her 
love, her little hour of love, has brought to 
her a lifetime of suffering. And the child — 
I dare not even think how it may be with the 
child — it might be well that it should die 
before it is born. I read your letter to her 
— I have read many of your letters to her. 
Love comforts her, as your love calms and 
uplifts me now to write to you — to talk to 
you thus even across this distance that di- 
vides us. Help me, John; send some word 
of your love to me, upon this wind that 

90 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 91 

breathes upon my cheek, this wind that 
blows up to me from the sea where you 
abide. Or have you akeady departed to an- 
other place to preach ? It is now many days 
since I have had any tidings from you. 

Antionb. 



ANTIONE, when I was with you by 
the fountain, and Pasclea's mother 
brought to you her httle one, but a few 
months old, crying with pain, and you 
encircled him with your arms, and breathed 
above him words of love, and also distilled for 
him soothing herbs until he was at peace and 
slept, and smiled in his sleep, yet perchance 
the little one did not know of your love, but 
only of pain and then release from pain. 

Even so we, lone, and they that suffer by 
reason of fever and all who know not the 
fulness of love, know much pain and some- 
times a happiness which is release from 
pain for a little time ; but not until we have 
grown into the knowledge of such love as 
was revealed to us in Jesus the Christ, can 
we attain to that joy that takes no heed of 
pain. When I was with you upon the hills, 

92 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 93 

and in the darkness you trod upon a stone, 
yet in my arms you knew no pain, and when 
you returned home and there saw the blood 
upon your sandals and your clothing, and 
the deep wound in your flesh, you marvelled 
that you had known it not. 

Even so, Antione, does the love of God, 
as I have seen it in the face of Jesus and as 
I have received it into my spirit, as it were 
the life of my flesh while I lay upon his 
breast — in like manner does love fill us and 
enfold us and possess our minds and souls 
that we know not pain save as the greater 
pressure of his love. 

Antione, it is with this love that I love 
thee, and when I am also most near to thee 
I yearn over thee in spirit that thou maj^st 
know it in its fulness, for this is the great 
gift of God, this is Emmanuel, God with us, 
even as was made manifest to us in the life of 
Jesus while he yet dwelt amongst us. 

We are made in the image of God, that 
is in the image of love, and the whole king- 



94 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

dom of heaven is within everyone of us and 
we show it forth to the uttermost. 

It is written; "He that beheveth shall 
not make haste," and also: "I charge you, 
O ye daughters, that ye awake not love until 
it chooses," for God is content that all things 
abide by the slow order of their ripening. 
We can till a rosebush but we can not till a 
rose. The blossoming of a rose is according 
to its own law of unfolding; so also is the 
way of the spirit. God, only, knoweth their 
hearts. Wherefore it behooveth none of us 
to say of such an one that he is slack, or of 
another, that he is evil, for in so doing we 
judge not such an one, but even the ways 
of God. 

There be those who preach and give much 
labor to teaching and to training those who 
will also preach and stand fast in the faith. 
Yet these nevertheless fall away from the 
truth or rise up to darken the word of Jesus 
with vain teachings of philosophy. Where- 
fore what does any preaching profit if it 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 95 

enter only into the mind of a man? For the 
mind of man is given to change and subject 
to persuasion. It is only when love pos- 
sesses the spirit that a man walks in the clear 
light of day and needs not that any should 
bear witness to him. 

I would that all might learn even as did 
Mary, who forsook all things to sit con- 
tinually at the feet of Jesus, and as also did 
he whom Jesus set as a Httle child in our 
midst to dwell with us in our journeys, and 
did carry in his arms when we walked in 
rough places, so that he also knew, without 
teaching by word of mouth, the love that 
dwelt in him whom the Father sent, which 
same love the youth also showeth forth now 
unto those over whom he is appointed as 
shepherd at Antioch. 

I would that all might learn even as did I 
also when I leaned on the bosom of Jesus, 
for thus only is knowledge of love perfected 
to the end that it can not be shaken. I 
would gather into my arms all who hunger 



96 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

for life and thirst for love, and thus show 
forth to them the bounty that is in the bosom 
of the Father. My heart yearns over those 
who wither in ignorance of the love of God 
and of the continual refreshment of oneness 
with him. 

Antione, thou art strong, thou hast tasted 
this love, but there are those who are careful 
and troubled about many things, and who 
are heavy laden and labor for that which 
satisfieth not. It is with such as these that 
I would dwell in fulness of the love of Jesus 
until the desert of their hearts doth blossom 
as a rose in the light of the Sun. I love thee, 
Antione, but thou dost not need my love as 
do those who are barren of love. 

John. 



IV/r Y heart has been singing for joy 
It J. throughout this day, John, Blessed, 
Beloved. I have carried the letter Tim- 
otheus brought from you close to my heart 
since morning and a flood of love and sweet- 
ness flowed from it through all my being. 

If you were here I would kiss your eyes, 
your hands, your hps, in this ecstasy of 
tenderness that possesses me as I write! 
And I know that you are glad, dear one, for 
all your strength and quietness — perhaps 
even because of this calm, still, adamantine 
quality in your nature that draws me irresist- 
ibly hke the mystery of sea-depths and the 
matchless beauty of mighty snow-topped 
hills — you are glad that I thus shower on 
you all the wealth of my loving, just loving 
you! You joy in the beautiful pearls of 
love I lay in your hands, you let them lie 
there, sweetly accepted and reverenced. 

I glory in your love, for you take me as 



97 



98 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

you take all who touch your life — upward. 
And I love you so completely, engulfingly, 
I sometimes feel, in rare, high moments, in 
some exalted, glorified way, that I am all 
that you are, and that all I see in you I am. 
For you see in me only my oneness with you 
and with him whom you call the Father. 

When you touch my hair caressingly and 
take my face between your hands and look 
deep into my eyes and kiss me, once and then 
again, yet I know it is only in an ineffable 
tenderness that flows from you to all living 
things. You accept all my loving in that 
gentle, affectionate way of yours that is not 
love, but just a perfect, tender kindness that 
would take the whole world close — close to 
your heart ! 

You put your arms about me with a gentle 
protection that brings happy tears to my 
eyes, for within your arms nothing but good 
can come near to me. Yet I know that you 
would give in like measure to any human 
creature. 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 99 

When I ran so joyously into your arms 
that last time you were here, and covered 
your face with kisses, and you laughed back 
at me a little, for that one moment we were 
almost as boy and girl together! 

No other gift Zeus holds in his hand is so 
sweet as this ecstasy throbbing and thrilling 
through every vein and nerve even to my 
soul! The essence of life and joy in just 
loving! Did you never know this purest 
happiness? Or have you forgotten it? It 
can not be wholly alien to you, since you can 
thus bring it to birth and call it out in me. 
I think I had not known what love could 
mean had I not known you. For the love 
of a girl is not as the love of a woman. We 
have a saying, "No thunders herald the gods' 
greatest gifts." When I went with those 
who had heard rumors of the strange man 
who healed the sick but would take no price 
for it, who shared his bread with the wood- 
gatherers and talked with them as brothers, 
I thought to find amusement for my dulness. 



100 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

I found, withal, one who has interpreted and 
made fruitful my whole life ! 

Still art thou to me in many things a 
mystery, Beloved of my soul. I feel but as 
a little child sometimes, beneath thy calm, 
deep gaze. Yet is thy least affection 
sweeter to me than the whole love of any 
other man ! I know now a secret of the gods 
and why it is they are so loath to bestow the 
gift of perfect love upon mankind. All 
other boons may be at will recalled — all 
grace of beauty, vigor, joy, and lastly life 
itself. But love once given is no longer 
theirs ! The gods may give but can not take 
again this their supremest gift to us of earth ! 

John, thou blest of gods and men, thus 
hast thou blessed my life ! 

Antione. 



YOUR love rejoices me, Antione, not in 
that it is given to me but chiefly that 
it enriches your own life. Even as you lose 
all thought of self in your love for me, so 
also will you lose all knowledge of self and 
of separateness in fulness of love. 

It is to this end that I labor with those who 
are yet alien to love; that the light of un- 
derstanding may by some means dispel their 
darkness. 

It is true, Antione, even as experience of 
life has made plain to you, that love is the 
essence of life and therefore in no wise under 
command, nor subject to the will of man. 
Neither can it be turned away, as it were 
that which had not been, when once it has 
sprung up within the heart. Thus it is that 
you say "the gods can give but may not take 
again." 

I know that in the beginning was the tree 

101 



102 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

of knowledge of good and evil set before the 
eyes of men, and also the tree of life. This 
is to say, first the tree of discernment and of 
power to choose, and then the tree of decision 
and of eternal choice. The fruit of the tree 
of knowledge and discernment is action, 
whereby shall come experience and there- 
fore understanding of love. If, then, 
having experience of love, a man with inten- 
tion shall choose to know yet larger love, and 
is not fearful but of good courage to bear 
what travail the birth of this new life may 
perchance hold for him, then has he eaten 
of the tree of life, and for himself has chosen 
that better part which shall never be taken 
away from him, even the gift of eternal life 
which Cometh through fulness of love. 

It is written that God had forbidden man 
to eat of the tree of knowledge and of the 
tree of life ; but this being interpreted signi- 
fies not that man should never eat thereof, 
but that such experience is, as it were, 
reserved, that a man may give pause and 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 103 

consider within himself whether he indeed 
desires this larger experience and is able to 
be baptized with this baptism from above 
into eternal life. 

He that shall eat of the tree of knowledge 
shall come into understanding of love 
through experience of hfe in the flesh. 
Knowledge without love is dead, as is also 
faith that is not born of love. The pool of 
Siloam healed him who stepped down into 
it only when the angel of love had stirred the 
waters. Faith cometh through love. There- 
fore did Jesus say, "Believe me for the very 
works' sake; believe the Word which is the 
Spirit shown forth in the love made manifest 
to men." 

It was by reason of her great love for him 
that Mary, his mother and mine, beheved 
even from the beginning that he was not as 
other men, and before he had yet done any 
miracle she had faith in the power of his 
word and said unto them that served, "What- 
soever he saith unto you, do it." If we love. 



104 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

then do we see clearly the angel that dwelleth 
within every man, and then do we also dwell 
always in the glory and radiance of love. 

John. 



IT would have given you joy, My Dear 
One, to see Xenia dancing with me this 
moment about the fountain! You who so 
greatly love the hght-heartedness of little 
children, John, and all the beauty of this 
radiant world, even to that of the wayside 
blossom, yet do you turn your back upon it 
all and labor ceaselessly with those who are 
despised and poor and have naught of joy 
or comeliness to give you ! Can not this love 
that has so filled your soul be sometimes 
shared with those who might give somewhat 
of love in return, and even somewhat of com- 
fort for thy days of toil? 

Hehodorus speaks of the wretchedness of 
this world and of the joys of another that 
may be found beyond the grave. But I do 
not like such speaking. The religion of the 
Greek is that of joy. To be happy is to 
assure our gods that we thank them for the 



105 



106 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

past and trust them for the future. We lay 
our live joys on their altars; they have no 
pleasure in things that have died. And they 
give back to us again our joys, trebled. 
Only a sick eye sees this world as sickly. 
The strong, healthy soul is glad, even in 
buffetting and distress which are but as a 
bout with the gods who play their games 
only with those they would greatly honor. 

To please the gods in drinking and eating 
is to make beautiful the banquet and to feast 
and laugh before their altars. To please the 
gods in labors is to do these with a gladness 
as of the very members of the soul ; to live life 
hour by hour to the perfect uttermost as if 
indeed there were no other hour to come. 

You have sometimes told me that the joy 
I find in simple things refreshes your weari- 
ness and that you like to be near to little 
children because they have no care nor any 
fear. And yet you spend your days among 
the careworn and the fearful ! Ah, Beloved, 
why will you not leave these for a little time 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 107 

and come and joy with me? I need you 
now I I need to know the touch of your dear 
hand to make complete the perfect beauty of 
this fair Spring day! Do you, too, feel 
somewhat of the joy of this season, where 
you toil among the far people of the hills 
— the song of the warm earth, the fine de- 
light of all things growing, becoming, the 
paean of the rising of the waters? 

Oh, come to me, Light of my life, cool 
Brook in the desert of my days! that we 
D^^y joy together in these simple, lovely 
things ! On such a day as this all earth must 
yield one joy! The sunlight covers every 
living thing, as it were the great yellow robe 
of Athene, on her holiday. The lilies nod 
together and flutter in the wind like the 
white sails of the boats at the harbor town 
below. My heart itself would spread the 
feast were you but here, Beloved! 

I sometimes feel as I did when, a very 
little girl, I would say, "Thank you, Apollo," 
on the morning of a perfect holiday. I 



108 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

think throughout my life my every sense has 
been as a fine subtle chord on which the 
cadences and harmonies of all that is, make 
music for my soul. I joy in so slight a thing 
as the breath of the wind upon my skin. I 
love my body. It brings me such rare joys 
in its manifold living. O dear one, if you 
would but sometimes care for that splendid 
body the gods have likewise given to you! 
You should take thought for it and rest it — 
perhaps lie as the Hons do for hours in the 
sun until every fibre is filled with the warmth 
of the gods ! Surely Zeus is of all beings the 
most joyful. And you have told me that 
Jesus entered into the joy of his friends and 
the happiness of little children. And you, 
dear love, your whole being is instinct with a 
deep inner happiness that as it were shines 
out from you into the very hearts of all you 
touch. 

Oh come to me, Life of my life, or I shall 
die, even in the midst of my joy, for very 
hunger for thee I 

Antione. 



IF I am ever weary, Antione, it is not by- 
reason of labor, but because I see many 
who thirst and hunger for the Word of life 
yet do so few attain to the full measure of 
the joy of that Word. 

When I lay my head on a dear breast, or 
write in love to give joy to one who has caDed 
out this love, or even stand aside that the 
wind of adversity that is the breath of God, 
or the touch of pain that is but the pressure 
of the loving God, may reach unto those 
whom he would draw yet closer to himself; 
when I look into the eyes of them that laugh 
with happiness or of them that weep, I see 
only him who by his knowledge of all joy and 
all sorrow, knew also the perf ectness of love. 

For he taught us that the flesh doth also 
minister unto the spirit and it is thus that 
we, as it were, redeem our flesh. Not by 
the death of the flesh, nor mortification of 

109 



110 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

the love of the flesh, but by greater Ufe, 
which cometh by greater love, are we born 
again into the new life which is of the Spirit. 
This is that breath of love that God in the 
beginning breathed into the nostrils of man 
so that he became One living Soul, and when 
the appointed time was come he sent his son 
also that we might through him know life 
and love and know it more abundantly. 

This is the truth that shall make us free. 
Yet when Jesus would tell it to them that 
came to him from the scribes and Pharisees 
they imputed to him sin and said that he had 
a devil and was mad. 

Yet is it even thus, Antione, that all men 
must become perfected through all expe- 
rience of life to the end that we come into 
the knowledge of our oneness. Wherefore 
should we love greatly and receive unto our- 
selves the love of all who would give love 
unto us, for in like measure do w^e receive 
also him who manifested unto us the Father, 
who himself is love. 

John. 



JOHN, my wonderful, all-wise friend, 
how I long to look into your eyes 
to-night, to ask counsel of your great heart, 
to share the illumination of your love I 

You remember Heliodorus, the sculptor? 
He has sent his slave to ask permission to see 
me to-night. I am strangely moved by this 
word from him to-day, yet I can give no 
reason for the feeling that I have. It is but 
a few days since he was here ; he stood in the 
court in the sunlight, tall and straight like 
Apollo — you know how beautiful he is, how 
vital, you too felt the charm of his spirit and 
the force of his brilliant mind. He has a 
great influence over me. My whole soul so 
loves what is beautiful 

Heliodorus understands women as few 

men do. His simplest courtesies are as 

from courtier to a queen; his reverence makes 

one regal. Even as I sat beside you the 

111 



112 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

evening he was here I felt the compelling 
influence of his glorious vitality, the power 
of his vigorous beauty, and he knows always 
in some subtle way how to bring to fine ex- 
pression the best that is in my mind. 

Beloved! It is now almost dawn. He- 
liodorus has but just left me. My heart 
turns to you as to one who can interpret all 
things and who can never misunderstand. 
For I doubt that I at all times understand 
myself. And for this last night I know no 
interpretation. 

When Heliodorus came to me I was tran- 
scribing some lines of Aristophanes for a 
friend — "For my part, I now affirm in 
reference to all human beings, both men and 
women, that our race would become happy 
if we were able to carry out our love per- 
fectly, and each one were to obtain his own 
special beloved, thus returning to his original 
nature." Heliodorus glanced over my writ- 
ing, and we talked a little of that belief that 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 113 

the gods cleave in two every soul they 
fashion and with closed eyes cast to the wild 
earthwinds of circumstance these halves 
charged with prenatal burning desire each 
for the other. We talked of our unplumbed 
human instincts that give rise to our many 
faiths, of the limitations of circumstance, of 
art in life. 

Our conversation grew more personal, 
more intimate. We had gone out into the 
court and the moonlight was filtering softly 
through the oleandars above us. Helio- 
dorus' hand touched mine — it seemed so 
natural that my own should rest there in his. 
He told me how he had loved me all these 
years, how he had followed the course of my 
life with increasing pride in my strength and 
courage, and that now he was at last free to 
ask me for his wife. He was so splendid, 
dear, as he stood before me there in the 
softened light, I — loved him! 

All these years he has strewn my way with 
flowers. In my loneliness, long before I 



114. THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

knew you, it was he who comforted me and 
in the greater loneliness of your long 
absences you know that he has been my con- 
stant friend, tireless in his effort to make me 
happy. 

As he talked of his love, his voice low with 
emotion, as he pictured the joy of perfect 
union, the ineffable sweetness of love, I felt 
that I fell in love anew with — Lovel That 
is the way with us women, we love Love. 
For a woman does not fall in love with a 
man, but with the Love he idealizes for her. 

And as I looked into that noble face so 
close to my own, that moment my nature 
answered the cry of his nature to me. I 
wanted to lose myself in that wealth of his 
emotion; I found myself, as it were, in him; 
I saw in his love, my love for you expressing 
itself. I saw you in him and myself in you 
and him in me ! 

And I was to him as I would be to you. 
And in that hour I felt nearer to all that is 
beautiful and sacred in the world. 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 115 

If you were here with me now, Beloved, I 
could look into your eyes and say that there 
h^s been naught of evil done to you or to 
myself. 

I am laying bare my soul before you now, 
dear one, to give you, while yet the radiance 
of love is in my heart, the fragrance of that 
wondrous hour which still enfolds me. 

You are so close to me now, my perfect 
one — so doubly, trebly dear! I lay my 
hands in yours, I look into your eyes — never 
have I known the Dear Presence more near 
my heart! I know that you understand — 
from this baptism of love with Hehodorus 
to-night I come again to you, dear one, and 
you welcome me into your arms. 

I have been sitting in the court in the rare, 
perfect, pearly light of coming day. I ques- 
tioned myself as to why it is that I can not 
bring myself to live with Heliodorus as his 
wife, since he loves me enough thus to forfeit 
his citizenship for me. I accept his love 



116 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

gladly, and my love goes out to him in 
return. Yet I can not find in my heart the 
desire to take that step that would lay under 
my heart another life — that would again fill 
my arms with the ineffable sweetness of 
motherhood. ... It must be in this, I think, 
that the secret of my whole womanhood 
lies. . . . 

Many men have loved me, dear. And 
because I and all women are in love with 
Love my heart has answered many times, as 
I have already told you. I would take 
gladly of the flood of love that has poured 
into my life, and would become, myself, a 
part of it. Yet always there seemed some- 
thing closer to me than myself that made me 
hesitate. Do you know what I mean? Ah, 
Beloved, I know by the tenderness in your 
eyes that you understand! And this makes 
it easier for me to tell you now what it has 
always before seemed impossible that words 
should hold. . . . 

When each dear friend learned to love me. 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 117 

with a closer and sweeter love than friend- 
ship knows, and I was ready in my heart to 
receive the glorious gift of love, this Some- 
thing has become more vital and has 
wrapped me about, taken possession of me. 
I caught as it were a glimpse of a new spirit 
reaching out to me from the land of unborn 
souls. . . . And in the very flower and 
consummation of my love I have hes- 
itated. ... As I looked in the eyes of 
one close friend . . . one lover . . . after 
another, I have questioned my soul. . . . 
"Would you have your little one like him?" 
Then, dear, there was no doubt about the 
answer. 

And even so all through the years of my 
womanhood, Beloved, have two invisible, 
tiny hands kept me loving, in the midst of 
whatever bitter experience, till at last the 
little unborn, unseen being reached out its 
sweet, small hands ... to you, and wanted 
to express a body and a soul and a hfe like 



118 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

yours ! It was then that I knew that I was 
free to love you with my whole being, that 
between us a divine life could come into ex- 
pression, a little new life like my beloved 
Xenia and like you could bud and blossom 
perfectly because of our own perfect joy 
together. 

It is to you that I belong. Giver and 
Nurturer of the breath of the gods within me 
— not to Heliodorus nor any other man in 
all the world. But I know, even in the hour 
of my supremest joy with you I know, that 
you can never in like measure belong to me. 
And yet in the blackest moment of that 
loneliness with which such knowledge some- 
times sears my heart, even so am I happier 
as but the least among thy friends, than 
enthroned above all women in the love of 
other men. 

Oh, John, thou for whom my heart cries 
out thus ceaselessly! What is it in but the 
light of thine eyes that in this wise dims every 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 119 

other radiance for me? Or is it the strange 
light in thy soul? I do not know. I only 
know thou art not as any other man and that 
I love thee, love thee I 

A. 



MY dear one: There is a union of the 
body and there is likewise a union of 
the heart and mind. Also there is a deep 
communion of the soul, which hath been ours, 
Antione, and will be yet again and in greater 
measure. 

John. 



120 



IT is now nearly five months since I have 
seen thy face, John, for whom I con- 
tinually long! Though the daily joy of 
living can not be wholly dimmed, yet have 
there been hom-s when the world seemed 
empty and bereft and my need of you was 
such that I could only cast myself upon my 
couch and weep — an agony of tears ! Even 
Xenia could not comfort me. In my sleep 
I would still sob for you, just for the touch 
of your dear, strong hands ! 

O it must be that when I reach out to you, 
long for you, you respond in like measure! 
It must be then that you are really here by 
my side, with your arms about me, when I 
thus so hunger for your arms ! Do you not 
feel my presence, the thrill of my hands, as 
I caress your hair? I kiss your forehead, 
your eyes, those wonderful eyes, so full of 
fire and of love, so keen with the power that 

121 



122 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

speaks through them, so tender with the 
thoughts that are too deep for words! I 
draw your dear head down until it rests upon 
my bosom. My hands touch softly the 
strong chin and find their way to the broad 
shoulders, the virile, unbowed neck, the dear, 
protecting arms ! I feel the wonderful heart- 
beats that I know are singing in time with 
my own, O Beloved! Do you not feel the 
flow of tenderness for you in my very finger- 
tips as they reach out to you? The same 
dear feeling is throbbing throughout my 
blood, is radiant from my whole body, you- 
ward ! 

Do you remember when you came to me, 
to my summer home in the hills? We stood 
on the shore and watched the sun as it sank 
behind the mountain and cast long bars of 
quivering shadows across the darkening 
water at our feet? Your nearness had 
attuned me afresh to the beauty about me; 
the humming of the insects in the busy work 
of their tiny lives was like soft music, the 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 123 

nestward fluttering of the birds above us in 
the oUves, the fragrance of dew-filled flowers, 
the sounds of toiling men, softened by dis- 
tance down the valley— all blended in a 
perfect harmony to which my whole being 
rhythmed. The mountains towered beyond 
us on the farther shore and you told me of 
the psahns you used to sing on the yearly 
pilgrimages. I loved that one — "As the 
Mountains are Round about Jerusalem." 
I loved to hear you talk of that first time you 
saw Jerusalem, when you were a child of 
ten or twelve, and how wonderful it looked 
to you after the long journey over the moun- 
tains and through the valleys of the Jordan. 
I am glad you have had friends among the 
Greeks all your Hfe. I am sure that because 
of that I seemed less a stranger to you from 
the first. 

I loved to hear you talk of the synagogue 
school where you went as a little boy — you 
can not know, I think, how I dwell on these 
pictures of your childhood — and where 



124 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

Caiaphas used to talk to you and keep you 
with him so long that your teachers feared 
you would fall short in your studies ! They 
must have loved you, too — perhaps they 
were somewhat jealous of Caiaphas. I 
loved to have you talk to me of your mother, 
and of all that passed in your father's house 
on the quiet bay, sheltered by the hills above, 
where you used to sing — "I will lift up mine 
Eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my 
help." Always the sight of the hills seems 
to take you back to those dear days of your 
childhood and I love to hear you talk of 
them. 

I was very happy that evening. It 
seemed as if some great spirit of love en- 
veloped me as I lay beside you on the grass. 
I am sure that "the Father" j^ou talk to me 
about was joying in our joy there under the 
stars, was moved in himself by this love he 
had given us, and that he understood. 
You and I and the Father — we three 
together. . . . 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 125 

It is now late and I am alone. I have 
dismissed Xanthus, who seemed stupid and 
selfish to-night. Many men are thus stupid 
in their attitude toward women, trying to 
influence them through their senses rather 
than their imagination, their inspirations. 
Yet Xanthus is kind. He would do any 
service for me in a time of trouble and he has 
been so good to poor lone. For this reason 
I tried to be patient with him and I repeated 
to myself that when he had at last gone I 
would reward myself for my patience by 
writing a little more to you — as one promises 
sweetmeats to a child after medicine ! 

I have been thinking of that last night 
before you left, when I pleaded so to travel 
with you in your work. As you stood there, 
looking down into my eyes, I hardly dared 
to breathe, for I knew you were weighing 
every reason and holding your dear heart in 
rein. Your thought of me shone in your 
eyes, but you were thinking also, and chiefly, 
of your work — the work that Jesus had given 



126 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

you to do, and even when you knew at last 
what your answer must be I could see that 
it was hard for you to tell me, fearing it 
would wound me. 

When you took my face between your 
hands and kissed me I knew that you had to 
deny me! I understood, and did not mis- 
understand. I knew that I would have been 
a hindrance to you. It would indeed have 
been impossible to take a woman with you on 
your hurried journeys. But oh, my Love, 
these terrible absences, these long, long 
months without you. How much longer 
will it yet be before I again see you! 



IT is well to want some things deeply, 
Antione, my dear one, for then do we in 
some measure sound the love of God toward 
us. 

It is when we yearn in hunger of heart 
that Love doth in some wise most richly 
reveal itself unto us. You beheve, Antione, 
that you hunger for my presence. But it is 
for the fulness of love that you yearn, even 
for the love of All that Is. It is by reason of 
the fulness of love that we have known in one 
another, Antione, that you thus hunger for 
that perfect love which is everlasting life. 
There is no other life, neither is there any 
joy nor any salvation, save as we grow into 
the fulness of Love. 

John. 



127 



I MUST write you, John, of how I felt at 
the Agape yesterday, with your eyes 
upon me! Yet am I glad that I was there. 

For a long time afterward I was convinced 
that I could never tell you of it. But when 
I had slept, with the new morning came the 
clearer light and I knew then that I must tell 
you everything before I could know again 
the closest touch of the Dear Presence about 
me. 

You have talked so much to me of Mary. 
I think you can not know quite how often 
you have spoken of her to me — of the work 
she is doing, the friends she has gathered 
about her, the beauty of her life. You 
pointed her out to me as we entered yester- 
day, then you left me and went to her and 
talked with her. There was something in 
your way of speaking, something in your 
face as you bent above her, that held my 
attention. Then, like a flash — I knew! 

128 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 129 

The hot tears blinded my eyes. My lips 
were parched, my own breath choked me. 
My soul cried out in agony to the gods — "I 
have lost him, lost him!" I seemed to live 
years before a voice said: 

"Let us pray." 
And because those about me did so, I fell on 
my knees — and prayed and prayed in a half 
wild, heart-broken way, until at length 
through the chaos of my emotion a voice 
sounded in the stillness of that great room: 
"Wherefore I say unto you, love." 

I threw back my head in angry, impotent 
misery, and your eyes caught mine and held 
them with that unwavering, penetrating 
look that seems always to touch the very core 
of my being in loving understanding. Your 
wonderful eyes, Beloved! The power of 
their gentleness, the sweetness of their 
sympathy! They spoke to me and I knew 
that you understood. You fathomed my 
agony as your eyes still held mine and while 
I knelt there among the friends before you. 



laO THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

and reached out to you in my sore need, there 
was no censure in your look, no pity to 
humble me — only love! Till at length the 
storm of terrible suffering was passed and 
the remembrance of your truth and strength 
and unwavering love seemed to fill me with 
a pm-er peace than I had ever known. 

The people rose from their knees and 
Mary turned and laid her hand on your arm 
and looked into your face. And when she 
spoke your face broke into a smile of under- 
standing sympathy, and I saw again your 
eyes, illumined now with loving friendship 
for her. Her face was very sweet and pure 
and gentle, as I saw it upturned to yours. 
Your transforming love seemed to make her 
beautiful — must needs indeed have made her 
in some measure like you 1 

Your face and hers were before my eyes 
throughout the night. I suffered, John. 
You know that I suffered. Yet has my love 
triumphed — your love, the love that you 
waked in me. I love you so, dear one, that 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 131 

I am willing — I am glad that a woman has 
been able to create in you that sweetness and 
tenderness of joy in just loving! Even in 
my pain of loneliness and heart hungriness 
to-day, still am I glad — for you, that you 
have indeed known that uttermost sweet 
tenderness that it is, simply to love! Just 
to love, love, love! 

Your friend Jesus, who knew all suffering, 
would not wish me not to love you, but to 
love you only with a love that leaves you 
always free. I am beginning to understand 
something of your devotion to your crucified 
teacher and your zeal for the work he laid 
upon you — you have helped me to under- 
stand through your own love which his great 
love had waked. It is your happiness and 
it shall be mine also, that you live — and even 
die, if need be! — in that loving kinship of 
work that I saw among those at the Agape, 
with friends dear to you by reason of a thou- 
sand precious memories of those three years 
together of which you speak so often. 



132 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

If you feel it best for this work that is so 
close to your heart, stay here, dear love and 
do not come to Athens ! I would not hinder 
you. I think it would hurt me more to feel 
that I was a burden to you than to bear again 
the lonehness and hunger of those long, long 
absences. I love you more than hfe — love 
you so utterly that I can do what is more 
cruel and terrible than death to me — I can 
let you go ! I dread — oh how I dread, dear 
heart — those bleak, barren, endless days 
without you ! Yet I would not keep you to 
your hurt. . . . 

Forgive me. I mean to be so strong, 
dearest, so brave to endure — as you would 
have me. . . . 

I was writing when I heard your step, 
dear love, and I hid this letter. 

I hold now in my heart how you came to 
my house after the conference was over, and 
I drew my fingers softly through your hair 
and about your forehead and kissed your 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 133 

dear eyes, closed, as you lay on the couch, 
resting. For you were tired though you 
would not speak of it, and I could see that I 
soothed you and that made me glad. 

There was no word of the day's experience 
between us. There was no need of words. 

I return to-morrow and will leave this 
letter for you, so that you may decide in 
my absence whether it is best for your work 
that we should separate. 

Oh John, my beloved! My whole being 
reaches out to you ! How can I let you go I 

It was with this thought that I clung to 
you at parting. Was it, dear love, was it 
indeed for the last time? . . . 

John, my Beloved, Messenger of peace, 
Mountain of the gods that is forever 
crowned with light ! While I tarried here in 
sadness, and the thought of what might be 
your answer to my letter concerning Mary 
and the Agape stalked before my eyes like a 
spectre, even then were you journeying 



134 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

hither to comfort me, and my sorrow was 
forgotten and drowned in joy at the somid 
of your step upon the stones! At your 
touch all my fear vanished ; enfolded in your 
arms the path before me seemed again 
lighted by the sun. Is it indeed that we 
women, as also our own little ones, learn only 
from the loving arms about us? 

Ah, dear one, the perfect joy of those 
hours of communion with you! There was 
no thought hid from you. You sounded the 
depths. Freely as I reveal myself to you 
when I write, yet are there innermost things 
that, as you know full well, can be drawn 
from me only by your lips. Your body is 
as a living shrine for me. 

When I am with thee thus, bathed in thy 
love, filled with thy presence, I love as widely 
as dost thou, and none escape the largess of 
my love! I could not grudge to any soul a 
share in such deep joy as then is mine ! But 
when thou art far from me, O Sun of all my 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 135 

days, then is it that in my hunger for thee I 
would be even niggardly with thee, I would 
give no crumb of thee to any I 

O come to me again, thou Ocean of de- 
light, and fill me with that perfect peace with 
which thou art so filled ! 

Three hours last night, and I craved the 
whole night long! It was as if I had begged 
of you a bright gold piece, O Master among 
men, and you put me off with copper ! Yet 
was even that so precious to me, Giver of 
endless joy! that as I held it in my breast 
throughout the night and till the morning 
came, it seemed to me to be indeed a shining 
thing and even as gold itself ! 

You have created in me that which seeks 
its maker ceaselessly! You who are indeed 
a physician of the Soul, tell me how I may 
still this continual heartache and hunger and 
longing for your presence! 

My love for you is as it were the gods 
themselves within me exulting in their 



136 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

power! Is it indeed as you have told me, 
that loving is and must ever be its own ful- 
filment ? 

Xenia would have me say to thee that she 
is lonely without her "dear comrade." 

Antione. 



LOVE is its own fulfilment, Antione, and 
the fulfilment of all things. And 
Love is the only physician of the Soul. 

Of Xenia I delight to hear. She also is 
my own child, though not after the flesh. 
Every child that is born of love is hkewise 
the child of my love and of your love, 
Antione. And every birth is like the glory 
of creation whereof Jesus spake when he 
said, *'Ye must be born again." And thus 
it is even as he also said : "I will come again, 
not in one woman but by all women." 

Mary, his mother whom he gave unto me 
to be also my mother, went, even until she 
could no longer journey, on pilgrimages to 
Bethlehem; as she had been wont aforetime, 
according to the custom of our people, to go 
up to Jerusalem. 

For those who go to worship at Jerusalem 
the city is made holy because of the temple 

137 



138 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

that is builded therein. Even so for Mary- 
was Bethlehem made holy because it was 
there that the temple of his body was made 
manifest unto her. For in every child the 
mother is born again after the flesh, so also in 
her love for the child is she born again into 
everlasting life. For every child born of 
love is as it were a fragment of the eternal 
life that comes through love. 
I love thee, Antione. 

John. 



THIS morning Xenia seemed somewhat 
listless, and in searching for a simple 
herb to give her I mistook for the one I 
wanted another that was a deadly poison, 
and not until I had crushed and moistened 
it did I see my error. In another moment 
I would have put it to her lips ! 

The mixture fell from my hands and I 
sank upon the stones of the court crying, 
"Oh, John, John!" Xenia bent over me 
and I told her what I had done. Even the 
sound of your name had calmed me some- 
what and she comforted me and bade me 
laugh, even as she did, also, that no harm had 
been done to her. My precious little one! 
Had any evil come-to her through me I could 
not bear another day of life! I tremble as 
I write. 

I am depressed to-day. I suffer through 
all the joy of loving you because you are so 

139 



140 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

far away and in such constant danger. 
Timotheus told me you were white and 
weary when he saw you, and I hear now a 
rumor that you have gone out alone into the 
great forest to seek out the bands of robbers 
and wild hill people. Oh, my Beloved, if 
any harm should come to you my heart 
would break! The mere thought of it 
makes me faint! For myself I have cour- 
age, I am strong — but for you . . . 

Dear, I broke down, I could not see to 
write, for weeping — my longing for you, my 
fears for your safety. 

O treasure of my heart! you are needed 
of the world, and in this and in other 
lands there are great minds to whom your 
message must be given, men who would 
know your worth — why do you spend your- 
self upon those barbarians! Philip, too, 
grieves that you will be thus rash. O forget 
not how many here long for you and count 
even a word from you as precious! 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 141 

I have read your letter to the churches, 
John; it moved me greatly that you should 
have so taken thought that I might share it, 
even as did your friends in the work. I 
kept it by me for another day and read it yet 
again. And much that I read sank into my 
heart and thus likewise deep into my un- 
derstanding. Yet always I comprehend 
the more clearly what I hear from thine own 
lips. It is then as if thy heart spoke even to 
my heart without need of words. 

Antione. 



ANTIONE, Anna has been grieved be- 
cause of my friendship for you and the 
letters I have written to you. I have told 
her, as you knew that I would, all that she 
has asked of me. She fears confusion and 
entanglement in the future, and she is pained 
that I should ask your help in any part of 
my work. She is sore at heart because of 
the thought that her own help has not been 
sufficient for me. 

I have comforted her somewhat, for she is 
but as a little sister who must be borne in 
arms over the rough places, but my own 
heart is heavy that it is no longer possible 
for you to go with me on the voyage. I 
must therefore again travel alone without 
the comfort and inspiration that your help 
has been to me. I am grieved for this, for I 
have leaned upon you, Antione, and have 
taken joy and rest in your love. 

142 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 143 

Yet is Anna near to my heart by reason 
of her presence with me all these years, and 
more so in that she is not yet strong and of 
courage as art thou, dear one ! Neither has 
she learned that love that takes no heed of 
self. Therefore am I tender with her that 
she may come into the knowledge of such 
love, and having told her of my great love 
for thee, yet do I regard her weakness as 
does the husbandman the new leaf upon 
the bursting seed, rather than the branches 
of some great full-grown tree. 

Yet am I grieved, Antione, for thou are 
dear to me. I can not write a long letter to 
thee now, but I will see thee yet once again 
before I set sail. 

John. 



1HAVE held so long the thought of 
Anna as one with you and like you — as 
it seems impossible that she should not be, 
living daily in the light and warmth of your 
presence as she does, John, my dear one, in 
whom my soul delights! It is hard for me 
to comprehend that she can grudge me this 
least share of you that has been mine ! You 
have been with me so little I Out of all the 
time I have known you so few days — hours 
— have been given wholly to me! I have 
gone with others to hear you preach, I have 
been with you in public places, but oh so 
pitifully few have been those times when you 
have been wholly mine — so few, so far be- 
tween, and short! 

And must even these be taken from me? 
John, how can she be so hard! If she could 
only know how I need you, the pain of 
aching loneliness without you! She could 

144 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 145 

not then be selfish with you ! I have learned 
to love Mary — she is so gentle and so full 
of love I could not help loving her ! I could 
love Anna also if she would but let me. 
Why will she not let me, John? I have 
rejoiced in your happiness together, I have 
honored her in my heart as though your 
nearness to her made for her a crown, I have 
blessed her for the blessing she could bring 
to your life. Why can she not also be glad 
because of the little I might do to make 
smooth the rough way you must tread? 
Why can she not spare me, out of the ful- 
ness of her long years with you, enough to 
stay a little this terrible hunger for you? I 
would be satisfied with even crumbs! I am 
not jealous, dear; I am only — starved! 

But I would not cause Anna any pain — 
that would but add to the burdens that you 
carry. If you should even leave the decision 
with me, still I think I could not find any 
willingness to do aught that would bring her 
suffering. And oh. Beloved, I would make 



146 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

any sacrifice rather than bring suffering to 
you! 

I have probed deeper in the days that have 
passed since your letter came to me. 
Deeper than the pain, deeper than any pain 
that could come to me, life of my life, creator 
of all that I am ! Deeper than all else is this 
great love you have waked within me! 

Antione. 



ANTIONE, my heart ! Jesus knew also 
the uttermost of anguish, until his 
soul cried out, "Father, if it be possible, let 
this cup pass from me." 

Yet, had it passed, we had not known the 
fulness of love, and the word that he made 
manifest unto us had come short of its fulfil- 
ment, for he said: "When I am lifted up 
with love I will draw all men unto me." 

As we likewise know sorrow and pain our 
love shall also work the will of him that sent 
us, for God doth not suffer the travail of any 
soul in vain. 

Antione, my love, I suffer with thee. 

John. 



147 



1HAD counted the cost of the truth 
that I spoke when I said that there is 
no sacrifice I would not make for you, John, 
my beloved. There is nothing in all the 
world that I desire as I desire your joy. I 
find my joy only in your own. You may 
ask of me all things, all things. 

I do not yet comprehend the full import 
of your letter, but there is a weight in my 
breast, a dull ache like a dead thing bound 
there. Yet it is needful that you should tell 
me plainly and fully what you would have 
me do. It will be my joy to follow your 
wish to the uttermost. I have courage, I am 
strong. And I will understand. I am 
assured that you know already that I will 
indeed understand whatever your love would 
ask of me. 

Antione. 



148 



ANTIONE! God does not give often, 
nor to many, such love as thine I 
Alone in the dark through all last night 
thou wert in my thoughts. Thou wert with 
me. And now I write to thee as seems most 
loving, for there is no other good but love. 

I am with thee always and in my love for 
thee there is no variableness. 

John. 

Yes — not to see, neither to write to each 
other— that is what I must needs say unto 
thee now. 

My heart is torn that I must give thee, 

also, pain. 



140 



DEARER than life to me! Must it 
indeed be that I may not even write 
to you I Nor will you write again to me! 
My foreboding had been that you would 
write that we must not again see each other. 
But oh, my Beloved, not even to have word 
of you, some message from you ! 

It is terrible, cruel — yet even in the blind 
agony of my pain I see the beauty of that 
strength and vision that has made it possible 
for you to strike such a blow. Because of 
this I can never doubt your love for me. 

It shall be as you say — and yet — it will 
not be true that I do not see you. I shall 
see you always, always. I think it may be 
now that the Dear Presence will never leave 
me. 

And when you think of me, I shall be 
there with you — waiting beside you. And 
so I shall be happy. 

150 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 151 

I have kept this letter by me for more than 
a day. I have an increasing premonition of 
some evil befalling my little one. John, my 
more than friend, I know you will never for- 
get that night we talked together of Xenia's 
future — and of another, doubly dear to us, 
yet whom we do not know. I hold in my 
heart the love you then showed me in your 
own heart toward Xenia. It comforts me 
unspeakably that if the gods will that I be 
taken away, she will be then as your own, 
one of the little children of our love. I will 
be happy in the thought that you, her "dear 
comrade," will be her constant friend and 
teacher, and I pray Zeus that she may learn 
from you of that great love wherewith you 
have brought blessing to me. 

Antione. 



WHY, oh why, my dear, dear comrade, 
if miracles are true, why could you 
not have come before it is too late ! Mother 
is dead! 

She had been to a meeting of the Agape, 
and on her way home was taken by the 
soldiers and brought before the magistrate. 
He asked her if she were one of the 
sect called Christians. She answered. No. 
Then he asked her if she had been at their 
meetings. She refused to answer, so they 
took her away to prison. 

Through Marcus, the guard, who is se- 
cretly a Christian, I was allowed to see her. 
I begged and besought her to say that she 
was not at their meetings, but she refused 
and refused, through all my pleadings, to 
speak anything but the truth. 

Then I wept. I strove so hard, oH, so 
hard, not to weep at parting with her. She 
was trying to be so brave! 

152 



THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 153 

The next day she was taken again before 
the magistrate, yet she still refused to answer 
as they bid. Then they scourged her with 
whips until strips of flesh fell from her back 
and she was covered with blood. I covered 
my eyes and wept until I could not see for 
weeping. 

Again they questioned her, and she 
acknowledged that she had been to the 
Agape, but she denied that she was a disciple 
of the Christians. Then the magistrate 
said, "Give me the names of those who were 
with you there," but she refused, saying: 
"I love the followers of Jesus." 

Then I was brought before the magistrate 
and they forced my mother to stand near me 
while they beat me cruelly before her eyes. 
I could hear her dear voice between the 
blows — "Be brave, Xenia, my darling," she 
cried. "Be strong. Remember your com- 
rade!" 

They stopped beating me, and for a 
moment there was silence in the hall. I saw 



154 THE LOVE LETTERS OF ST. JOHN 

my mother reach out her arms as if to greet 
some one, though there was no one near her. 
Then — she fell! O my mother! The sun 
is blotted out from the sky over all the earth! 

I fly to-night to Africa with Heliodorus 
and lone, and Euneo who will bring you 
this. You will come to me even there, as 
you promised? 

But why, oh why, my beloved comrade, if 
miracles are indeed true, why did you not 
help me before it was too late! 

Xenia. 



XENIA, my comrade, my little one! 
Thy mother did not bear witness by 
her words that she was with us, yet the deeds 
that sprang from the love of her heart bore 
witness, and she is with us now indeed. 

The Spirit of thy mother is about thee, 
Xenia, and will always be near to thee and 
to me, even nearer than in life, for it is the 
same spirit that is in thee. 

Euneo will tell thee all — I can write 
but little, so that she may hide it in her 
clothing. The soldiers are seeking me. 
But my time is not yet and I will yet come 
to thee, beloved child, and we will comfort 
each other and talk together of the joy of thy 
mother's life, which is also thy life, for it is 
because of thy mother's great love that thou 
also art one of us. For greater love hath no 
man than this, that he lay down his life for 
those who are only his friends. 

John. 

155 



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